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OK  CALIF.  LIBRARY,   LOS  MGELES* 


THK   GAY   GXAXI   OF   (JIXGALEK 


THE  GAY  GNANI  OF  GINGALEE 

OR 

DISCORDS  OF  DEVOLUTION 


A  TRAGICAL  ENTANGLEMENT  OF 

MODERN  MYSTICISM  AND 

MODERN  SCIENCE 


BY 

FLORENCE   HUNTLEY, 

Author  of 
Harmonics  of  Evolution"  and  "The  Dream  Child' 


HARMONIC   FICTION   SERIES 
VOL.  II 


SECOND  EDITION 


INDO-AMERICAN  BOOK  CO., 

5707  West  Lake  Street, 

CHICAGO,  ILL. 


Copyright  1908 

By 
FLORENCE  HUNTLB" 


DEDICATED 

to 
Those  who  are  wise  enough 

to  be  foolish  —  at  intervals 


2130173 


PRELUDE. 

Mother  Nature  contributes  the  elements 
and  qualities  and  "temperament"  of  the 
individual;  and  no  matter  what  the  educa 
tion,  occupation,  position  or  experience, 
those  native  tendencies  persist. 

One  who  is  born  with  the  disposition  for 
mental  frivoling  and  a  keen  sense  of  non 
sense  discovers  that  these  tendencies  per 
sist  with  far  greater  tenacity  than  any 
impulses  of  anger  or  fear  or  other  destruc 
tive  elements.  The  writer  of  this  little 
book  has  found  them  subordinate  only  to 
the  thirst  for  knowledge  and  the  love  of 
truth. 

When  the  author  of  this  " romance" 
finally  renounced  the  small  gods  of  her 
personal  ambitions,  and  surrendered  the 
diverting  occupation  of  newspaper  work 
for  serious  instruction  in  the  School  of 

5 


6  Discords  of  Devolution 

Natural  Science,  she  merely  restrained  but 
never  eliminated  that  Sense  of  Nonsense. 
The  native  tendency  toward  intellectual 
badinage  and  literary  travesty  persisted— 
and  even  to  the  present  time  it  furnishes 
relaxation  from  the  absorbing  duties  in 
connection  with  The  Great  Work. 

Science,  if  it  be  Science,  must  take  into 
account  all  of  the  facts  of  Human  Nature ; 
and  Philosophy,  if  it  be  Philosophy,  must 
include  and  assign  to  place  every  intellec 
tual,  native  and  normal  tendency  of  the 
Soul. 

Science  and  Philosophy  that  have  no 
room  for  the  incongruities  of  life  and  the 
frivolings  of  the  intelligence  are  only  par 
tial  mentors  and  masters. 

The  workshop  occupies  so  much  of  life, 
thought  and  energy,  that  no  one  should  re 
fuse  an  occasional  hour  in  the  play  room. 

Confidence  in  the  good  sense  of  the  read 
ers  of  the  Harmonic  Series  forbids  the 
thought  that  this  little  satire  should  be 
mistaken  for  a  reflection  upon  the  Verities 
of  the  School  of  Natural  Science,  or  that 


Prelude  7 

it  could  be  so  misinterpreted  as  to  dis 
credit  the  Harmonic  Philosophy. 

In  so  far  as  it  is  a  travesty  it  deals,  not 
with  the  facts  of  Science  and  the  Truths  of 
Philosophy,  but  with  the  people  and  the 
things  which  discredit  both. 

"The  Dream  Child"  and  the  first  sketch 
of  "Discords  of  Devolution"  were  writ 
ten  at  the  same  time  and  place,  but  at  dif 
ferent  desks. 

This  was  done  in  Washington  City,  at 
the  time  of  my  separation  from  newspaper 
life. 

The  one  stands  for  that  earliest  concept 
and  ideal  of  the  Great  Law,  while  the  other 
represents  the  undertone  of  nonsense  which 
instruction,  experience  and  self-denials 
have  subdued  but  never  eliminated. 

The  manuscript  of  this  little  volume  has 
been  read,  from  time  to  time,  by  friends 
who  have  urged  its  publication.  This, 
however,  was  never  seriously  intended  un 
til  the  "Interlude"  (Chapter  XII.),  was 
contributed  by  the  TK,  which  interlude 
gives  to  the  whole  a  definite  meaning  and 


8  Discords  of  Devolution 

purpose  but  vaguely  suggested  by  my  own 
work. 

Except  for  this  masterly  arraignment  of 
The  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee  the  author  of 
this  tale  would  have  lacked  the  courage  to 
publish  it. 

With  this  addition,  however,  the  writer 
reconsidered,  reread  and  retouched  the 
Ms.,  and  consented  to  an  Experiment. 

With  this  explanation,  excuse  and  apol 
ogy  for  the  writing  of  the  romance  in  the 
first  place,  and  now  for  its  publication,  the 
author  commits  it  to  criticism — with  a  cer 
tain  conviction  that  it  has  a  mission  of  its 
own  to  perform. 

FLORENCE  HUNTLEY. 


INGREDIENTS. 


Chapter  Page 

PRELUDE    5 

I     PROPHET  AND  PROFIT 13 

II     Miss  SHEETS  Is  SHE 21 

III  IN  PRIMORDIAL  BIOGEN  .  .    30 

IV  THE  MANSARD  ROOF 49 

V     IN  THE  HIGHEST  DEGREE 65 

VI     THE  GAY  GNANI  OF  GINGALEE  . .  75 

VII     THE  BOOK  AND  THE  BAGDAD.  ...  87 

VIII     THE  MAN  IN  THE  CELLAR 110 

IX     DRAWING  A  CORK 130 

X     A  PRIVATE  EXHIBIT 140 

XI     UP  AGAINST  IT 158 

INTERLUDE   176 

XII     « '  THE  WAGES  OF  SIN  Is  DEATH  "177 

(By   a    Member   of    the   Ancient   Order   of   the 
Brotherhood  of  India.) 

XIII     PHLOGISTON  is  RESTORED 189 

POSTLUDE  .  .   204 


"Jfar  tnljat  shall  it  prnfit  a  man  if  ty  gain  a  rofjnlr 
ani  jar  Iji0  ^inl|pr  S»rlf  ?" 

— Aphorism  of  the  One  Hi . 


CHAPTER  I. 

"Philosophers  Deride,  Fools  Investigate." 

PROPHET  AND  PEOFIT. 

"But  my  profession,"  pleaded  the  slim 
and  pallid  youth  who  stood  wistfully  eye 
ing  the  Soda  Fountain.  "You  forget,  my 
friend,  that  the  vows  of  a  Guru  forbid 
such  diffusion  of  force  and  waste  of  mag 
netism  as  occur  in  meeting  those  not  of 
The  Path." 

"Tommy-rot!"  bawled  young  Mr.  Van- 
derhook  as  he  continued  to  polish  the  al 
ready  glittering  faucet.  "You've  not  seen 
her,  and  you  hear  me,  there  is  only  one  in 
the  box  and  what's  more  she  can  give  cards 
and  spades  to  any  old  band  of  mystical 
misfits  on  the  top  side  the  Earth.'* 

"But  my  profession,  William,  the  obli 
gations  of  One  —  Who  —  Aspires  —  To  - 
is 


14  Discords  of  Devolution 

Know  are — are — simply  immense,  and  in 
my  profession — " 

"0,  hang  your  profession — a  couple  of 
minutes  anyway,"  interrupted  the  man  at 
the  fountain,"  and  come  along.  You're 
not  going  to  shake  Kankakee  till  you've 
seen  my  Very  Best — the  finest  Chicago 
brand,  the  highest  flyer  this  side  your  ce 
lestial  belt.  What  d'ye  say,  and  what '11 
you  have?"  and  Bill  Vanderhook  looked 
anxiously  into  the  other's  face  while  his 
hand  sought  the  "sweet  cream"  spigot. 

"And  if  I  consent,"  finally  murmured 
the  Occultist,  now  toying  mechanically  with 
the  long  handled  spoon,  "  If  I  consent, ' '  he 
repeated  in  a  weird  monotone — his  eyes 
following  the  process  of  a  Lowball — "and 
look  upon  WOMAN — should  I  look  upon 
her  you  would  call  your  own,  remember, 
Bill,  that  you  assume  my  responsibility, 
and  that  upon  your  head  will  rest  the  con 
sequences  of  my  mad  act.  Upon  you  must 
descend  the  penalties  of  my  violation  of  the 
First  Degree." 

"I'll  go  you,"  recklessly  responded  the 


15 

young  druggist,  as  he  shoved  the  frothing 
fluid  across  the  marble  slab — "only  let's 
get  a  move." 

Alonzo  Leffingwell's  right  hand  closed 
vaguely  but  firmly  upon  the  handle  of  the 
drinking-cup.  With  an  air  of  utter  indif 
ference  he  poured  the  questionable  com 
pound  into  his  system.  Then  his  left  hand 
sought  his  vest  pocket — tentatively. 

The  Vanderhook  drug  store  once  more 
stood  the  treat. 

Since  infancy  these  two  young  men  had 
been  inseparable  chums.  The  law  of  oppo- 
sites  had  been  satisfied.  It  had  attracted 
and  welded  the  affections  of  the  stout, 
stocky,  rosy  and  roystering  Bill  Vander 
hook  and  the  pale,  pensive  and  passive 
Alonzo  Leffingwell. 

Bill's  voice  in  babyhood  was  loud,  res 
onant  and  cheerful,  while  Lonnie's  was  low, 
limpid  and  languid.  In  youth  Bill's  eyes, 
big,  bold  and  black,  had  seemed  continu 
ally  searching  for  the  hidden  and  forbidden 
things  of  fruit  closet  and  melon  patch. 
Contrawise,  Lonnie's  orbs,  mild,  misty  and 


16  Discords  of  Devolution 

luminous,  seemed  forever  scanning  the  un 
satisfying  deeps  of  space. 

While  nature  seemed  to  have  constructed 
Bill  Vanderhook  for  a  short-stop  or  a  half 
back,  it  had  reserved  Alonzo  Leffingwell 
for  the  higher  arts  of  mystical  mysteries. 

On  attaining  his  majority  Bill  consulted 
with  his  father  and  accepted  a  partnership 
in  the  paternal  pharmacy.  Alonzo  con 
sulted  with  himself,  determined  upon  mys 
ticism  and  cut  loose  from  parental  guid 
ance.  Upon  this  he  resigned,  as  humorist 
of  the  Daily  Clarion,  and  set  out  upon  the 
path  of  wisdom. 

About  the  same  time  that  Bill  turned 
from  bats  to  bottles  and  gave  up  the  kick 
ing  of  balls  for  the  rolling  of  pills,  Alonzo 
laid  down  his  pen,  took  up  his  crystal  and 
immured  himself  in  his  bedroom. 

Naturally,  the  exactions  of  these  widely 
differing  occupations  tended  more  and 
more  to  separate  the  two  young  men. 

To  Bill  Vanderhook  it  meant  an  active 
daily  life  and  a  perpetual  hustle  in  holding 
his  father's  trade  and  reaching  out  for  the 


Prophet  and  Profit  17 

increase.  It  meant  for  him  a  frequent  dip 
in  the  social  swim,  and  great  popularity 
among  those  who  attended  "functions" 
and  presided  at  Chafing  Dishes. 

To  Alonzo,  his  decision  to  become  a 
"Wise  Man"  cut  him  out  of  pretty  nearly 
everything  in  the  town.  It  meant  renun 
ciation  of  all  social  and  sentimental  diver 
sions  of  Kankakee.  While  upon  the  Drug 
gist  were  fixed  the  obligations  of  citizen 
ship  which  rooted  him  in  his  ancestral 
home,  to  the  Mystic  it  meant  only  obscura 
tion  and  retirement. 

While  Bill  was  now  joyously  "taking 
stock"  and  setting  up  new  show  cases,  Mr. 
Leffingwell,  in  obedience  to  his  "Higher 
Self,"  was  packing  his  grip  for  India. 

For  he  who  aspires  to  the  state  of 
Gnanum  must  seek  a  more  adequate  asy 
lum  than  that  of  Kankakee. 

Alonzo  was  now  well  up  in  Yogum. 

He  approached  Gnanum. 

He  apprehended  the  ALL. 

Against  all  this  Bill  had  violently  pro 
tested.  "Cut  out  this  foolishness,  and  get 


18  Discords  of  Devolution 

the  bats  out  of  your  belfry.  Come,"  he 
implored,  "and  clerk  for  me.  This  is  the 
Leader  in  Kankakee,  and  when  you  learn 
the  business  I'll  make  you  my  Pardner. 
Now  what's  the  matter  with  THAT!" 

"Pouf !  Piff!  PELF!"— and  Alonzo  had 
shuddered  as  he  thus  expressed  in  a  mu 
sical  crescendo  his  repulsion  for  trade.  At 
the  mere  mention  of  the  Drug  Store,  or  the 
Stock,  this  Prophet's  apprentice  might 
have  been  seen  to  curl  his  mustache  with 
disdain. 

He  was  strangely  indifferent  to  the  pos 
sible  profits  of  the  show-case  and  the  soda 
fountain. 

Once  he  had  asked,  with  something  akin 
to  vitality  in  his  tone,  "How  can  you.  Bill, 
consent  to  spend  the  whole  of  your  earthly 
life  in  the  weighing,  measuring  and  com 
pounding  of  cold,  inert  forms  of  matter?" 

"And  how  can  you,"  Bill  had  retorted 
in  immeasurable  disgust,  "how  can  you 
consent  to  spend  your  life  in  heathendom, 
roosting  on  top  of  a  post  for  forty  years, 


Prophet  and  Profit  19 

till  your  fingers  grow  through  your  fists? 
And  more, ' '  he  continued  loudly,  *  *  I  '11  have 
you  remember  that  these  same  cold,  inert 
forms  of  matter  stand  for  big,  warm  and 
lively  DOLLARS.  D'ye  hear  me;  Mr.  Dy- 
anzy  Chooanzy?  While  you're  munchin' 
raw  fodder  and  meditatin'  in  mouldy  caves 
on  the  manifold  mysteries  of  mankind,  I'll 
be  livin'  up  to  the  Queen's  taste  in  Kan- 
kakee — swell  front — mansard  roof — stun 
ning  wife — bank  stock — and — who  knows — 
but  the  legislature  or  Congress  or  even" 
and  Bill  paused  modestly  before  nominat 
ing  himself  to  the  Presidency. 

Alonzo  vouchsafed  no  reply. 

He  only  gazed  at  his  companion  with  the 
wide,  meaningless  smile  of  one  who  Knows 
—he — Knows. 

Then,  shaking  his  head  with  vast,  pro 
phetic  solemnity,  he  waved  adieu  and 
passed  out — in  impenetrable  silence. 

This  devotee  had  learned,  as  do  all  those 
who  delight  in  the  name  " Mystic,"  that 
nothing  is  more  effective  than  this  vague, 


20  Discords  of  Devolution 

superior  silence,  when  confronted  with  the 
crude  practicalities  of  the  "  Unillumined. " 
Then  a  truce  prevailed  between  these 
erstwhile  comrades  until — the  ever  to  be 
expected — the  Unexpected — happened. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MISS  SHEETS  IS  SHE. 

She  was  radiantly,  'wilderingly  beau 
tiful. 

She  was  tall  and  lissom,  leopard-jointed 
and  swift. 

She  was  one  of  those  dulcet-toned,  tawny 
peroxides,  an  houri,  for  whom  the  synonym 
is  "havoc." 

Chicago  spoke  in  her  every  tone  and  ges 
ture.  Her  movements  were  meteoric.  Her 
eyes  were  X-rays.  Her  smile  was  sheet- 
lightning.  She  was  alert,  trim  and  tailor- 
made.  Her  very  presence  breathed  the 
richness  and  aroma  of  her  stock-yards 
training.  The  Spirit  of  Chicago,  "I 
WILL,"  pulsed  through  her  veins.  "Push 
and  Pull"  was  her  motto.  "Get  there" 
was  her  creed. 

Whoever  is  familiar  with  the  fatal  fas- 
21 


22  Discords  of  Devolution 

cinations  of  a  Chicago  Typewriter  can 
gauge  the  gait  of  the  Kankakee  pulse  when 
Miss  Imogene  Silesia  Sheets,  late  of  the 
great  packing  house  of  Harmor  &  Co.,  was 
precipitated  into  the  midst  of  that  sub 
urban  society. 

The  advent  of  this  loveliest  of  her  Type 
was  brought  about  through  the  courteous 
solicitations  and  higher  salary  offered  by 
Slaughter  &  Steers,  a  rival  firm  of  the 
great  hog  magnate  of  Chicago. 

From  the  very  multiplicity  of  her  attrac 
tions  and  accomplishments,  Miss  Sheets 
was  indescribable. 

Life  in  Chicago  is  of  itself  an  education, 
and  our  heroine  was  rich  in  the  accumula 
tion  of  her  experiences.  Her  years  of  serv 
ice  in  the  greatest  pork  mart  of  the  world 
had  developed  a  keen  discrimination  as  to 
the  relative  coincidences  and  differences 
among  hogs  and  men.  She  was  never  de 
ceived  as  to  either.  She  valued  each  after 
his  kind,  in  his  own  place  and  for  his  own 
proper  purposes,  as  becomes  a  broad- 
minded  woman. 


Miss  Sheets  Is  She  23 

Miss  Sheets'  accomplishments  ranged 
from  office  to  drawing  room.  She  pounded 
the  typewriter  and  the  piano  with  equal 
facility,  and  it  was  said  that  she  rendered 
her  stenographic  notes  in  rag-time  rhythm. 

Within  a  week  of  her  arrival,  Mrs.  As- 
tor's  boarding  house  became  a  social  cen 
ter,  and  Mrs.  Astor  appreciated  a  guest 
who  at  the  same  time  became  a  social  fea 
ture  and  paid  in  advance. 

Before  a  month  had  elapsed  this  artless 
girl  had  completely  won  her  hostess'  heart, 
and  as  they  nibbled  nuts  and  nougats  at 
Imogene's  expense,  that  unsuspecting  lady 
had  disclosed  to  Miss  Sheets  about  all  she 
knew  of  the  "Eligible  List"  of  Kankakee. 

From  this  time  forward,  as  if  by  intui 
tion,  the  lovely  Typewriter  seemed  to  know 
that  she  preferred  Bill  Vanderhook's  at 
tentions. 

As  for  Bill,  he  had  been  victimized  from 
the  start.  Three  times  a  day  he  walked 
an  extra  mile  to  pass  her  boarding  house 
or  place  of  business.  He  trod  the  air.  He 
jollied  every  customer,  and  set  up  the  soda 


24  Discords  of  Devolution 

water  recklessly.  He  beamed  on  the  very 
bottles  behind  the  counter.  He  racked  his 
brain  and  rifled  his  Father's  show-cases  to 
do  her  homage. 

"Be  mine,  Sweet  Thing,"  he  implored, 
the  third  Sunday  after  their  introduction. 
This  he  said  as  they  sat  in  his  new,  red 
automobile,  four  miles  from  town,  while 
they  waited  for  a  gasoline  man. 

But  the  maiden  demurred.  "Oh,  Mr. 
You've  got  sand  in  your  gear  box,"  she 
said  shyly;  then  she  smiled  alluringly  and 
purred  softly.  The  brim  of  her  cart 
wheel  hat  grated  along  his  Derby,  and 
they  drew  as  close  as  fashion  permitted. 

Still  her  rosy  lips  withheld  the  answer. 
"Not,"  she  murmured  to  her  inmost  self, 
"until  I  know  whether  there's  an  electric 
cart  and  a  trip  to  Europe  coming  along 
with  the  big  diamond  and  the  sealskins. ' ' 

But  Bill,  stupid  after  the  manner  of  men, 
was  sorely  tried  by  her  evasiveness.  He 
was  not  a  Mind  Reader.  He  just  made 
plain  Love,  without  the  modern  conve 
niences. 


Miss  Sheets  Is  She  25 

Then  came  the  gasoline  man,  and  it  was 
dark  before  they  started.  As  both  were 
very  hungry,  nothing  more  was  said. 

Bill  Vanderhook  looked  like  a  blue  print, 
when  he  handed  her  out  to  Mrs.  Astor. 

He  felt  he  had  lost  his  opportunity.  He 
feared  he  had  lost  the  girl. 

It  was  at  this  critical  stage  of  Cupid's 
campaign  that  our  story  opens.  It  was 
during  this  momentous  interlude  that  the 
over-anxious  Bill  had  dragged  the  reluctant 
Alonzo,  the  unwilling  Mystic,  from  his  pro 
fessional  seclusion  and  led  him,  unpre 
pared,  into  temptation. 

Unconfessed  to  himself,  Bill  had  a  con 
siderable  faith  in  Alonzo 's  occult  powers. 
He  meant  to  induce  the  Guru  to  aid  his  suit 
with  the  tantalizing  Typewriter. 

Having  finally  decided  to  break  his  vow, 
Mr.  Leffingwell  wrent  out  of  the  drug  store, 
sustained  by  the  lowball  and  a  shadowy 
hope  that  he  would  not  be  found  out.  He 
realized  his  departure  from  the  fifty-seven 
Paths,  but  he  did  not  dream  that  as  yet 
he  had  come  up  to  his  Karmic  Destiny.  He 


26  Discords  of  Devolution 

did  not  suspect  that  he  and  Bill  were  stroll 
ing  down  Asylum  Avenue,  arm  in  arm,  for 
the  last  time. 

A  little  later  Alonzo  is  seated  with  Bill 
in  Mrs.  Astor's  parlor,  on  the  very  daven 
port  where  Bill  had  first  seen  HER. 
Silently  they  awaited  the  appearance  of 
the  maiden  of  whom  Bill  talked  all  day, 
whom  he  visited  every  evening,  and  of 
whom  he  dreamed  all  night. 

The  face  of  the  Mystic  was  set  and  stern. 
His  body  was  erect  and  rigid.  His  gaze 
was  abstracted,  cold  and  indifferent. 

To  his  innermost  Inner  he  was  steeled 
against  Woman. 

Presently  there  was  a  swish  and  a  swirl 
of  nearby  silk  and  heatherbloom,  a  faint 
but  intoxicating  odor  of  patchouli,  and  then 
—and  then — a  face,  a  bewildering  flash  of 
the  rose  and  the  lily,  a  sunburst  of  radiant 
loveliness. 

The  up-to-date  maiden  and  the  up-to- 
date  Mystic  stood  face  to  face. 

On  that  instant  the  tragic  entanglement 
of  Mysticism  and  Materialism,  which  had 


Miss  Sheets  Is  She  27 

been  recorded  in  the  stars,  now  took  on  its 
initial  expression. 

The  effect  upon  the  Occultist  was  instan 
taneous  and  overpowering.  On  the  instant 
his  face,  form  and  expression  lost  their 
hauteur,  rigidity  and  disdain.  Rising,  but 
unheeding  the  formal  introduction  by  his 
proud  and  awkward  chum,  Alonzo  Leffing- 
well  paled,  trembled  and  swayed.  For  one 
unutterable  moment  he  gazed  upon  that 
dazzling  vision  with  rapt  ecstasy,  and  then 
raising  his  delicate  white  hand  and  point 
ing  at  random  in  the  air,  he  shrieked  in  a 
loud  voice,  " Aha !— Ah-ha !  'tis  SHE!  'Tis 
SHE  !— MISS  SHEETS  IS  SHE  !"  and 
fell  in  convulsions  at  the  feet  of  the  lovely 
stranger. 

Then  Miss  Sheets  shrieked  like  it  was  a 
mouse,  and  Bill  growled  his  astonishment. 

"Well!  wouldn't  that  jar  you?"  cried 
the  girl. 

But  collecting  himself,  Bill  rather  en 
joyed  the  impression  his  Imogene  had 
made. 

"You've  paralyzed  him  sure,"  he  said. 


28  Discords  of  Devolution 

contempt  for  Alonzo  and  admiration  for 
the  Lady  struggling  for  expression. 

"Don't  you  think  it,"  she  said  gaily,  giv 
ing  her  pompadour  a  twist — "but  what  are 
we  going  to  do!" 

"Why,  I'll  telephone  for  the  auto  and 
rush  him  around  to  the  drug  store.  No, 
not  a  doctor — I  know  how  to  fix  him.  A 
good  stiff  Hi-lowball" — and  Bill  winked— 
"will  start  his  vibrations  again." 

Then  the  lovers,  momentarily  distracted 
from  themselves,  resumed  where  they  had 
left  off,  and  so  successfully  did  Mr.  Van- 
derhook  Jr.  press  his  claims  that  before  the 
auto  came  smelling  around  the  corner — and 
while  the  unconscious  Alonzo  lay  cold  and 
mute — Imogene  had  received  the  huge  soli 
taire  she  had  admired  so  prettily  the  last 
time  she  and  Bill  passed  the  Jeweler's  to 
gether. 

Late  that  night,  when  Bill  slipped  noise 
lessly  out  of  Mrs.  Astor's  parlor,  a  golden 
hair  was  curiously  entangled  in  the  coils  of 
his  cameo  shirt-stud. 

And  the  Eecluse,  what  of  him? 


Miss  Sheets  Is  She  29 

What  of  him  who  had  violated  the  First 
Degree  ? 

After  regaining  his  equilibrium  he  with 
drew  to  his  father's  house  and,  locking  him 
self  in  his  apartments,  he  there  remained 
for  one  month,  during  which  time  he  tasted 
neither  food  nor  drink. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

IN  PRIMORDIAL  BIOGEN. 

His  penance  done,  the  Mystic  of  Kanka- 
kee  presented  himself  once  more  at  the 
soda  fountain.  He  was  paler,  slimmer  and 
altogether  more  effective  than  before.  He 
was  faultlessly  groomed  in  pearl  gray.  His 
head  was  held  high — by  an  immaculate  col 
lar.  He  was  shod  in  patent  leathers,  and 
white  spats  peeped  chastely  below  his  up 
turned  trousers.  His  gloved  hand  grasped 
the  middle  of  a  large  cane  for  support. 

"Do  you,  William  K.  Vanderhook,  hope 
or  expect  to  marry  Imogene  Silesia 
Sheets?" 

Young  Mr.  Vanderhook,  who  was  replen 
ishing  the  soda  fountain,  startled  for  the 
moment,  dropped  a  large  chunk  of  ice, 
thereby  overturning  several  bottles  of 
syrup. 

30 


In  Primordial  Biogen  31 

' '  If  —  So  —  You — Must — Ee — lin — quish 
-Her." 

"Now,  what  are  you  givin'  me?" 
growled  Bill,  as  he  turned  upon  his  chum, 
and  as  he  did  so  snapped  the  cover  of  the 
soda  fountain  with  unnecessary  violence. 

"Merely  this,"  said  Alonzo  Leffingwell, 
slightly  raising  his  monotone, — "You  per 
suaded  me  to  break  my  vow.  You  inveigled 
me  into  looking  upon  woman.  I  had  warned 
you,  pleaded  with  you  to  let  me  out  of  this. 
You  heeded  not.  I  hinted  at  penalties. 
You  sneered.  You  did  not  believe  me.  You 
insisted.  I  yielded.  But  you  have  as 
sumed  the  consequences.  You  have  defied 
Destiny.  But  my  unsophisticated  friend, 
you  have  bound  yourself  to  accept  the  re 
sults.  You  played  with  Fate.  The  law  is 
relentless.  Rash  boy,  you  have  invoked 
dire  karmic  consequences." 

"Well,  what  in  the  name  of — the  higher 
foolology — are  you  driving  at?"  snapped 
Bill,  quite  out  of  patience. 

"This,  my  once  friend,  this" — and  Lon- 
nie  now  well  started,  talked  straight  on. 


32  Discords  of  Devolution 

"Through  my  higher  comprehension  of 
primordial  principles,  and  by  my  occult 
manipulations  of  certain  astral  forces 
(quite  unknown  to  such  as  you),  I  erstwhile 
learned  the  most  profound  fact  in  nature. 
I  was,  as  we  say  in  our  cult,  able  to  vision- 
ize  my  Soul  Mate.  The  doors  of  the  future, 
as  it  were,  lifted  from  their  hinges,  and— 
Aha !  you  start.  You  tremble.  You  sense 
my  secret.  You  perceive  the  mystical  mean 
ing  of  my  metaphysical  meanderings. ' ' 

Alonzo  Leffingwell  paused,  gazing  fixedly 
at  Bill,  who  was  now  nervously  rinsing  the 
glasses. 

"You  have  guessed,"  and  the  Mystic's 
voice  fell  to  a  sharp  whisper,  "Miss 
Sheets  is  SHE, — she  whom  I  cognized  in 
the  astral.  She  is  not  your  affinity,  but 
mine.  Did  you  not  perceive  that  we  needed 
no  introduction!  Our  higher  selves  re 
sponded  to  the  law;  hence  my  agitation, 
and  your — your — KAEM A. ' ' 

Bill  Vanderhook  stopped  short,  straight 
ened  himself.  He  quit  tinkering  with  the 
stock. 


In  Primordial  Bio  gen  33 

Continued  Lonnie  remorselessly,— 

"Knowing,  as  I  do,  that  our  union  is  in 
evitable  in  the  course  of  evolutionary  proc 
esses,  I  thought  best  so  to  inform  you,  and 
as  it  were,  take  her  off  your  hands.  You 
are,  I  trust,  too  wise  to  attempt  any  inter 
ference  with  the  immutable." 

Bill  Vanderhook  stared  at  his  chum  for 
a  minute,  and  then  broke  into  a  big,  loud 
laugh.  "Well,  at  least  you're  candid,"  he 
said — "more  so  than  most  fellows  who  find 
their  affinities,"  -  -  and  he  carelessly 
mopped  off  the  marble  slab.  "At  the  same 
time," — and  his  voice  roughened — "you'll 
excuse  me  for  saying  that  you're  off  your 
base,  and  that  I  hold  the  age  over  your 
astral  informant,  whatever  his  degree  of 
asininity." 

' '  And  you  mean  to  say  that  you  will  not 
relinquish  her?  That  you  will  defy  the 
decrees  of  nature?  That  you  will  violate 
the  principles  of  primordial  biogen?  That 
you  will  ignore  the  'Harmonics  of  Evolu 
tion?'  And  Alonzo's  eyes  again  rested 
on  the  labels  of  the  soda  fountain. 


34  Discords  of  Devolution 

"To  the  first, — Nit.  To  the  secondly, 
thirdly  and  fourthly, — Yep.  Now,  you  get 
it?"— and  Bill  looked  very  tired. 

"0,  earthy  and  unillumined ! "  mur 
mured  the  pale,  young  enthusiast, — "would 
that  I  could  but  for  a  moment  open  up  to 
your  clouded  understanding  the  mystical 
and  unintelligible  explications  of  one  whom 
I,  even  I,  acknowledge  to  be  a  deeper,  more 
profound  and  more  mysterious  Mystic  than 
MYSELF. 

"What  you  need,  0,  dense,  chaotic  soul, 
is— EX-PLI-CA-TION,  Explication  that 
will  Explain.  Hear  me,  poor  groveler  amid 
the  rudimentary  manifestations  of  matter. 
Harken  to  me  ere  it  be  too  late.  Hear  me, 
0,  my  boyhood's  chum.  Hear  the  words  of 
misty  meaning  which  have  flowed  in  bound 
less  streams  from  this  modern  Mystic,  that 
Far-Off-One  in  Manhattan  Isle.  These  are 
the  words  of  one  upon  whose  wisdom  I 
feed,  the  words  of  one  who  KNOWS,  and— 
and — I  whisper  to  you  in  secret,  one  who 
admits  that  he  is — a — Mystic. 

'  *  Hear  him,  William — you  who  trifle  with 


In  Primordial  Biogen  35 

solemn  things — you  who  deny  these  pri 
mordial,  protoplasmic  affinities.  Hide  your 
head  in  confusion.  Hear  him  whose  utter 
ances  no  man  can  interpret.  Hear  him 
whose  explications  are  as  explicit,  as 
limpid,  as  lucid,  as  crystalline,  as  clear,  as 
the  broad  light  of  day  at  midnight's  holy 
hour. 

' '  Turn  with  me  to  our  most  luminous  and 
incomprehensible  text  book.  You  will  find 
at  page  numbered  288,  commencing,  I 
think,  near  the  middle  of  the  page,  the  fol 
lowing  inspired  words,  viz.,— 

*"  'The  spiritual  espousal,  wherein  hu 
manity  is  united  with  the  Lord,  is  not  only 
catholic,  including  all  the  elements  in  a  hu 
man  word,  but,  whatever  may  be  its  heav 
enly  consummation,  is,  in  its  earthly  ex 
pression  and  as  a  visible  manifestation,  a 
limited  estate,  involving  conditions  such  as 
attend  all  other  espousals:  on  the  Bride's 
part  a  destination  separating  her  from  the 
Bridegroom,  and  in  many  ways  seeming  a 


*"A  Study  of  Death,"  by  Henry  Mills  Alden ;   late 
editor   Harper's  Magazine. 


36  Discords  of  Devolution 

contradiction  of  her  inmost  desire  for  Him, 
so  that  she  becomes  a  poor  starveling,  a 
distraught  and  desolate  Psyche,  bereft  of 
Love ;  and  on  the  part  of  the  Bridegroom  a 
running  after  her,  as  if  in  answer  to  some 
great  need  and  hunger  developed  in  her 
desolation,  as  if  He  had  indulged  her  aver 
sion  that  He  might  follow  her  into  her 
darkest  hiding,  standing  at  her  door  and 
knocking  while  His  locks  are  wet  with  the 
cold  dews  of  her  night — He  also  having 
veiled  His  essential  might  and  brightness 
lest  she  should  be  dismayed  at  His  coming, 
yet  retaining  enough  of  his  original  maj 
esty  that  she  may  see  Him  as  the  one  alto 
gether  lovely,  the  wonderful.' 

' l  Here  in  this  one  simple  sentence  of  only 
one  hundred  and  eighty-four  short,  brief, 
curt,  compact,  concise,  terse,  pithy,  diffuse, 
verbose,  prolix,  copious,  flowing,  digres 
sive,  excursive,  discursive,  pleonastic  and 
periphrastic  words,  with  at  least  nine  out 
of  every  ten  of  which  you  should  be  famil 
iar,  there  are  enough  possibilities  of  mean 
ing,  and  lack  of  meaning,  to  keep  your  be- 


In  Primordial  Biogen  37 

nighted  intellect  busy  guessing  for  the  bal 
ance  of  your  natural  life. 

"But  dark  as  is  your  intellectual  vision, 
you  can  not  fail  to  note  the  frequent  occur 
rence  of  such  significant  words  as  'Bride,' 
'Bridegroom,'  'espousal,'  'united,'  'heav 
enly  consummation,'  'destination,'  'deso 
late  Psyche,'  'Love,'  'indulged,'  'original 
majesty,'  'altogether  lovely,'  and  'won 
derful.' 

"You  can  not  fail  to  note  that  in  this 
wonderful  revelation  of  the  possibilities  of 
a  single  sentence,  the  personal  pronouns 
'He'  and  'Him'  always  begin  with  a  capi 
tal  '  H. '  Can  you  further  doubt  that  this  re 
fers  to  ME  ?  Can  you  furtner  protest  that 
this  union  of  ME  and  MINE  is  not  an  es 
sential  part  of  the  great  plan  and  purpose 
of  the  Cosmic  Intelligence  to  whom  alone  I 
acknowledge  equality? 

"But  if,  perchance,  there  yet  remains  a 
lingering  doubt,  then  listen  once  more  to 
this  inspired  Mystic;  for  at  page  197  he 
says,— 

"  'In  the  ascent  of  life,  desire  seems  to 


38  Discords  of  Devolution 

compel  its  cosmic  partner,  as  hunger  its 
victim,  suspending  that  operation  of  phys 
ical  and  chemical  forces  proper  to  them 
outside  of  this  dominion  of  vitality ;  in  its 
descent  these  forces  more  and  more  tend  to 
resume  their  proper  action,  until  finally 
they  bring  into  their  own  domain  the  struc 
ture  they  have  served;  their  hardening  of 
the  walls  of  life's  outward  temple,  begun 
for  protection,  has  gone  on  to  the  extreme 
of  fragility  and  destruction — an  office  as 
kindly  as  any  they  have  performed.' 

"And  once  more,  0,  my  benighted 
friend,  at  page  185  he  again  says, — 

"  'In  this  complex  hierarchy  of  Nature 
discrete  accords  are  sustained,  so  that  they 
fall  not  into  indifference  and  confusion ;  de 
grees  of  excellence  are  marked — of  truth, 
beauty  and  goodness ;  individual  sequestra 
tion  and  tranquillity  are  secured,  and  for 
each  life  a  way — its  own  that  no  other  can 
take,  and  yet  open  to  accordant  intimacies 
and  correspondences ;  and  in  the  psychical 
involvement  life  acquires  a  feeling  of  itself 


In  Primordial  Bio  gen  39 

and  a  conscious  "control,  the  liberty  of  its 
dwelling.' 

' '  And  yet  again  at  page  108,— 

"  'As  these  organic  capacities  are  deep 
ened  inwardly,  representing  in  their  spher 
ing  and  involution  and  convolution  the  syn 
thetic  action  of  cosmic  envelopment  from 
the  beginning,  the  desire  which  has  thus 
shaped  itself  by  intussusception,  express 
ing  its  postulation,  is  outwardly  a  flame  of 
increase,  ascending  also  while  it  is  crescent 
until  it  reaches  the  culminant  point  of  its 
physiological  term,  where  it — 

1  'Hold  up  there.  Close  that  valve  a  min 
ute.  Put  on  the  lid,"  roared  Bill,  "and  tell 
me  in  the  name  of  all  specialized  idiocy 
what  you're  at.  If  you  can't  untangle 
yourself  with  four  thousand  languages 
dead  and  alive,  then  you  better  go  chase 
yourself  into  cosmic  nebulosity. 

"If  this  is  your  Ex — pli — ca — tion — , 
and  if  this  is  your  only  excuse  for  involut 
ing  yourself  into  an  introconvertible,  dou 
ble-back-action  dictionary,  then,  says  I, 
t'mud  with  your  mysticism.  And  now  here- 


40  Discords  of  Devolution 

after,  when  you  want  to  'explicate'  you  go 
out  to  the  harmless  ward  where  they've  got 
whole  bunches  of  just  such  as  your  old 
Manhattan  misfit  mutt. 

"You  go  out  there  and  talk  to  your  own 
brand  of  mystics.  Don't  you  talk  shop 
here.  I'm  in  the  drug  business  and  I  know 
a  little  bit  about  medicine,  but  I  '11  be  ever 
lastingly  lost  in  a  cosmological  fog  if  I'd 
know  how  to  prescribe  for  symptoms  like 
yours.  The  kind  of  microbes  that  mani 
fest  through  the  gray  matter  of  a  mystic 
are  not  identified  in  these  mundane  dispen 
satories. 

' '  Now,  you  hear  me  a  minute,  Mr.  Alonzo 
Leffingwell— INEXPLICABLE  mystic  and 
all  around  D — P — of  every  old  degree,  you 
want  to  get  right  out  of  Kankakee  and  lose 
no  time.  The  state  of  Illinois  makes  our 
city  the  center  of  only  ordinary  aberra 
tions;  it  does  not  provide  wards  for  such 
illuminated  inanities  as  you  at  this  minute 
have  been  explicating. 

"I  say,  my  friend,  you  go  get  some  bare 
and  lock  yourself  up.  Go  sink  yourself  in  a 


In  Primordial  Bio  gen  41 

tank  of  formaline  and  then  will  the  tank  to 
the  scientific  department  of  the  institution. 
This,  I  say,  would  never  be  misunderstood 
by  anybody  who  knew  you.  It  would  be  a 
contribution  to  science,  an  aid  to  education, 
and  an  example  to  the  young.  And  this 
would  be  the  only  good  excuse  you  could 
ever  give  to  society  for  having  been  on  the 
top  side  of  the  earth. ' ' 

"Unhappy  trifler,  you  will  regret  your 
selfishness,"  murmured  the  occultist,  less 
in  anger  than  sorrow.  "But  I  have 
done.  I  leave  you  to  your  destiny.  I  leave 
you  to  your  own  conscience.  This  will  cost 
you  cycles  of  expiation.  You  have  for 
feited  your  possibilities.  Had  you  resigned 
her  in  accordance  with  the  law,  all  had  been 
well.  But  your  persistence  shall  react  upon 
your  own  head, — and  now  farewell.  I  leave 
you,  to  return  no  more, — at  least  not  this 
afternoon.  I  shall  seek  the  lady.  It  rests 
with  her.  If  possible  I  shall  save  her  from 
the  sad  error  of  marrying  you.  I  shall 
save  her  from  herself.  I  shall  lift  her  up 
to  ME,  and  in  this  wise  I  may  perhaps 


42  Discords  of  Devolution 

save  her  from  other  and  very  disagreeable 
reincarnations. ' ' 

Bill  Vanderhook  picked  his  hat  off  the 
peg,  carefully  selected  a  big  cigar,  lighted 
it,  took  a  whiff  and  then  replied  sardonic 
ally, — "Well,  Mr.  Dianzy  Chooanzy,  and 
suppose  she  won't  affin,  what  then?" 

"Then,  0,  then," — lisped  Lonnie  as  he 
leaned  upon  the  show-case  as  if  for  sup 
port, — "I  shall  be  compelled  to  wait 
through  several  cycles,  perhaps,  until  she 
has  worked  out  the  necessary  karma  and 
attained  to  ME." 

"But  see  here,"  persisted  Bill.  "I 
thought  that  you  gurus  and  gnanis  and 
you  astral  fellows  generally  took  the  bach 
elor's  degree  the  very  first  inning.  I 
thought  you  were  clean  off  the  market. 
I've  always  heard  that  matrimony  was 
quite  outside  the  mystic  foul  lines." 

"Eight," — answered  Lonnie, — "that  is, 
as  you  understand  mysticism,  marriage  is 
forbidden,  except  a  gentleman  discovers 
his  very  own.  And  even  then," — and  his 
voice  quavered, — "he  must  not  even  get 


In  Primordial  Bio  gen  43 

engaged  until  she  who  is  his  in  primordial 
biogen  shall  attain  to  an  equal  illumina 
tion.  This  frequently  postpones  the  happy 
day  for  ages." 

"Well,  now,  that's  a  horse  of  another 
color," — and  Bill  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief. 
"This  is  most  likely  one  of  those  post 
poned  cases.  Anyway,  I  was  solid  up  to 
last  night,  but  if  you  don't  mind  waiting  a 
couple  of  thousand  years  I  haven't  any 
objections," — and  the  generous  young 
druggist  let  fizz  a  glass  of  mineral  water. 

' '  Thanks,  awfully, ' ' — murmured  Lonnie, 
but  whether  for  the  permission  or  the 
apollinaris  was  not  quite  clear.  He  sipped 
the  sparkling  water  with  suggestive  mourn- 
fulness. 

"Being  chained  to  the  material,"  he 
added,  "it  is  very  possible  she  may  even 
prefer  you  to  ME.  The  fleshly  veil  which 
yet  so  thickly  clothes  her  higher  principles, 
may  obscure  ME  to  her  inner  conscious 
ness;  in  which  case  I  must  temporarily  re 
sign  her.  I  may  not  claim  her  for  several 
brief  earth  lives  yet.  For  all  this  I  am 


44  Discords  of  Devolution 

fully  prepared.  And  should  she  not  cog 
nize  ME  for  what  I  AM,  I  shall  hence  to 
India,  and  there,  by  contemplation  in  the 
sacred  cave  I  shall  astralize.  I  shall  re 
turn  again,  and  keep  watch  over  her. ' ' 

"Well,  well,  well, — that's  quite  an  idea, 
isn't  it?"— responded  Bill.  "No,"— as 
Lonnie  felt  in  his  vest  pocket — tentatively, 
—"it's  my  treat.  The  plan  you  mention 
isn't  more'n  half  bad — kind  o'  lets  us  all 
out  without  any  hard  feelings.  I  know  it 
will  suit  Imogene  to  a  T.  Come  back  from 
India  any  time — in  the  astral.  You'll  find 
the  latch-string  out." 

' '  You  forget, ' '  returned  the  Mystic  mild 
ly,  even  sadly,  "that  ONE— WHO- 
KNOWS  requires  neither  latch-string  nor 
pass  key. 

' '  Such  an  one,  as  I  AM— TO— BECOME, 
neither  asks  admission  nor  visits  by  invi 
tation.  These  are  they  who  function  in 
the  Universal  and  whose  atomic  particles 
respond  to  the  WILL.  These  are  they 
whose  levitations  are  uncircumscribed, 
who  moveth  by  Desire  and  where  they  list- 


In  Primordial  Bio  gen  45 

eth.  If  I  go  shall  I  return  again?  And  if 
so,  from  whence  and  for  why?  And  who 
shall  let  me  in?  Aha!  Ah-ha!" 

Saying  which  the  wise  man  of  Kankakee 
turned,  went  softly  out  the  door  and  glid 
ing  down  Asylum  Avenue  sought  the  abode 
of  the  fascinating  Typewriter. 


A  fttaifcrtt  ea  fair  attb  a  (guru  HO  sltglji 

(UnnurrfirJi  as  tljrg  Bat  mi  tfjr  grmt: 
Alnnzn  tf|p  grrr  was  %  namr  iif  tljr  migijt. 
ntatb  tuasi       3Patr 


CHAPTER    IV. 


Again,  for  the  second  time,  the  student 
of  the  occult  gazed  upon  his  affinity;  and 
again  the  lovely  Typewriter,  versed  in  the 
higher  criticism  of  Chicago  social  life, 
sized  up  her  caller  with  cosmopolitan  grace. 

The  meeting  was  relieved  of  embarrass 
ment  by  the  spontaneous  interrogation  of 
the  city-bred  business  woman. 

"And  what  can  we  do  for  you  today, 
Mr.  Leffingwell  ? ' ' — sweetly. 

"I  have  come,  Miss  Sheets," — mur 
mured  Mr.  Leffingwell,  and  he  looked  di 
rectly  through  the  maiden  at  the  wall 
paper, — "I  have  come  to  invite  you,  to 
implore  you,  to  go  with  me  to — to — to — 
stroll  with  me.  Walls — walls — that  is, 
some  of  them,  have  ears.  I  would  be  alone 
with  you.  There  is  much  of  moment  to  im- 

49 


50  Discords  of  Devolution 

part  to  you — to   you  alone.     There  is  a 
secret — " 

.  "That  catches  me," — broke  in  the 
beauty,  and  she  rose,  donning  her  picture 
hat  hastily,  and  grabbing  her  long-handled 
umbrella  and  many-buttoned  kids. 

"Well,  come  along,  Mr.  Leffingwell;  I'm 
ready" — and  the  dear  girl's  hand  was  on 
the  hall  door-knob. 

And  the  man  and  the  maiden  passed  on 
down  Asylum  Avenue. 

The  Mystic  appeared  actually  to  know 
where  he  wanted  to  go.  After  conducting 
her  to  the  outskirts  he  led  her  upward  to 
the  summit  of  a  bluff  overlooking  the  City, 
the  Asylum  and  the  Vanderhook  drug 
store. 

Then  he  became  strangely  silent.  In 
deed,  he  had  spoken  but  once  in  their  long 
walk,  and  then  only  when  his  companion 
halted  suddenly,  dropping  a  few  paces  be 
hind  him. 

"What  is  it,  dear  Miss  Sheets,  art 
weary?" — he  had  murmured  softly,  and 


The  Mansard  Roof  51 

he  anxiously  contemplated  her  listless  ex 
pression. 

"It's  nothing,"  the  lady  replied,  and 
then  she  smiled  bravely. 

But  it  was  something,  very  unpleasant 
and  very  painful.  Miss  Sheets  was  break 
ing  in  a  new  pair  of  boots — an  immense 
feat,  as  any  Chicago  girl  knows. 

It  made  her  very  tired. 

Finally  they  reached  and  paused  upon 
the  summit.  It  was  the  hour  when  the  sun 
is  apparently  sinking.  Kankakee  lay 
bathed  in  that  rosy  afterglow. 

"Is  not  this  inspiring — uplifting?  Is 
not  this  Realization?  Let  us  VIBRATE." 

His  large,  round,  blue  eyes  were  fixed 
steadfastly  upon  nothing.  He  wore  an 
expression  of  ineffable  self-satisfaction. 

But  the  lady  was  silent.  She  seemed  not 
to  hear.  She  was  busy  with  some  burrs  on 
her  gown.  Her  gaze  lingered  fondly  upon 
her  new  sparkling  diamond. 

"Still  silent,"  he  murmured,  "still 
wrapped  in  your  own  thoughts.  Why  that 
disturbed  expression,  why  no  response? 


52  Discords  of  Devolution 

You  frown;  alas,  what  does  this  portend?" 
and  Alonzo,  the  Guru,  momentarily  divert 
ed  from  contemplation  of  Himself,  clasped 
his  hands,  cast  his  eyes  upward  and  bent 
as  if  he  might  kneel. 

"It  isn't  anything,"  indifferently. 

"Alas,  and  alas!"  ejaculated  her  escort. 
"Not  anything  you  say;  yet  we  who  walk 
the  Path  are  taught  that  everything  Ob 
jective  is  the  outcome  of  something  which 
is  Subjective,  and  therefore  nothing  is 
something  and  'not  anything'  is  every 
thing  to  me,  when  it  disharmonizes  YOU. 
Tell  me,  fair  one,  what  and  why?" 

"0,  well,  if  you  must  know,"  and  Miss 
Sheets  sniffed,  "I  was  just  wondering  if  I 
could  ever  tie  up  to  these  dreadful,  grassy 
smells  of  the  country.  One  gets  so  used  to 
City  odors,  you  know.  And  Chicago  has 
more  of  'em,  especially  about  the  Yards, 
and  better  mixed  than  in  any  city  in  the 
world.  When  you're  in  Chicago  you  know 
what's  a-coming" — and  the  city-bred  girl 
held  up  her  dainty  "mouchoir"  to  ward 
off  the  scent  of  new  mown  hay. 


The  Mansard  Roof  53 

A  wave  of  perplexity,  of  doubt  over- 
swept  the  solemn  countenance  of  the 
Mystic. 

"Then  you  would  tell  me — " 

"Yes,  that  I  don't  like  the  odors,  and  I 
don't  like  this  dead-and-alive  stillness. 
Why,  anybody  who  comes  from  the  Yards, 
and  is  used  to  the  roar  and  crash  and 
squealing,  gets  nervous  prostration  in  a 
cemetery  like  this." 

Alonzo  contemplated  her,  wonderingly; 
then,  as  if  dismissing  the  whole  thing,  he 
said  in  a  tone  that  hinted  of  impetuosity, 
"Let  us  not  talk  of  Chicago,  nor  the  Yards. 
Let  us  forget  the  smelly  things  and  the 
dead  ones.  Let  us  only  think  of  each  other, 
Miss  Sheets,"  and  he  drew  closer  to  her. 
"Miss  Sheets,  Imogene,  my  own,  my  very 
own,  tell  me,  tell  me  now  that  you  feel  a 
subtle  something  drawing  you  to  ME ! ' ' 

The  sharp,  bright  eyes  of  the  Type 
writer  opened  with  astonishment.  It  was 
the  lady's  turn  to  look  bewildered.  She 
gazed  blankly  at  the  smitten  Seer  who 
had  already  dropped  on  one  knee.  She 


54  Discords  of  Devolution 

gazed  upon  him  in  wonderment.  It  was 
the  look  of  mingled  awe  and  admiration  a 
child  bestows  upon  a  circus  Poster. 

' '  I — I — don 't  catch  on, ' '  she  said  simply. 
The  rapt  lover  smiled.  It  was  a  pale, 
luminous  ripple  of  compassion.  He  lifted 
himself  to  the  perpendicular — drawing  still 
closer.  He  gazed  upon  her.  He  seemed 
almost  ready  to  take  her  hand. 

"Most  perfect  of  mortals,"  he  began. 
"Let  me  explain: 

"As  you  may  have  heard,  I  am  under 
orders  for  Gnaniship.  To  accomplish  this 
I  must  soon  go  from  the  sophomore  grade 
of  Illinois  to  the  senior  course  in  far  off 
Hindustan.  In  the  line  of  my  profession 
I  come  to  know  pretty  much  everything.  I 
am  as  familiar  with  the  IS,  as  with  the 
APPAEENT.  The  NOTHINGNESS  of 
the  IS  NOT  I  have  demonstrated  several 
times.  The  oneness  of  UNITY  and  the 
ISNESS  of  BEING  I  have  already  mas 
tered.  And  by  a  patient  pursuit  of  the 
WHITHER  and  WHENCE,  I  have  antici 
pated  my  contemporaries  by  thousands  of 


The  Mansard  Roof  55 

years.  I  have  distanced  posterity  by  many 
a  lap." 

The  Mystic  paused  to  note  the  impres 
sion  he  was  making.  Then  he  went  on;— 
"Through  the  esoteric  fundaments  of  na 
ture  and  through  certain  occult  experi 
ments  in  primordial  polarity,  I  was  en 
abled  to  apprehend,  to  comprehend,  to  cog 
nize  the  great  law  of  affinity.  I  discovered 
that  somewhere  there  was  a  ONE,  a  par 
ticular  ONE,  a  dear,  sweet,  beautiful  SHE 
to  whom  I  was  bound  in  protoplasmic  en 
ergies  and  biological  consequences. 

' ;  And  there  came  a  time  when  she  whom 
I  sought  wyas  visioned  in  the  astral  light. 
T  saw  her — SHE — that  one,  essential,  cor 
related  SHE,— SHE  that  was  my  other 
half— that  satisfying  SHE— that  only  SHE 
—was  none  other  than  your  own  sweet 
self,  Miss  Sheets. 

"Nay,  do  not  interrupt  me.  It  was  not 
until  you  realized  in  material  substance 
this  ethereal  vision  that  I  had,  as  it  were, 
solved  the  problem.  I  had  proved  the  law. 
Though  as  yet  far  beneath  MYSELF  in 


56  Discords  of  Devolution 

physical  refinement,  mental  acquirements 
and  spiritual  illumination,  I  am  yet  re 
solved  to  accept  you  as  my  own  and  wait 
until  you  do  attain.  I  am  patient.  I  can 
and  will  wait  until  you  have  been  instruct 
ed  in  the  Path  of  Yog,  and  attain  to  ME. 
And  now,  my  own,  speak  to  me.  Express 
your  joy.  Speak,  ah,  speak!" 

Air.  Leffingwell  paused.  There  was 
something  almost  akin  to  human  desire  in 
his  voice,  but  there  was  no  reply.  Miss 
Sheets  was  silent.  She  seemed  to  be  only 
half  listening.  In  her  eyes  was  now  that 
far-offness,  so  habitual  to  mystics,  gnanis 
and  gurus.  It  was  now  the  lady  who  was 
abstracted.  Her  glance  traveled  down  and 
backward  along  the  avenue.  She  was  look 
ing  in  the  direction  of  the  drug  store. 

"Hear  me  again,  fair  one"-— whispered 
the  occultist.  "I  am  yours  only.  You  are 
mine  only.  I  co-ordinate  with  you,  not  as 
Bill  does  on  the  earth  plane.  Mine  is  a 
love  not  desecrated  by  thoughts  of  dia 
mond  rings,  sealskin  sacques,  oyster  sup 
pers,  pink  candies  and  frozen  mushes. 


The  Mansard  Roof  57 

Mine  is  the  primordial  passion  that  vi 
brates  in  the  etheric  spaces  of  the  uni 
verse.  It  is  a  passion  which  scorns  ma 
terial  bribes.  Mine  is  a  devotion  that 
looks  only  to  soul  communion,  and  the 
solemn  absorption  of  OURSELF  back 
into  Nirvanic  nothingness.  The  hour  is 
come  and  now  is.  Imogene,  my  onliest, 
sweet  bird  of  paradise,  it  is  your  mate  who 
calls.  Come,  0  come,  this  day,  this  hour, 
and  we  will  fly-by-night  to  Hindustan." 

Miss  Sheets  started — but  not  to  Hindu 
stan.  She  was  roused  from  her  reverie 
of  drugs,  drug  stores  and  druggists.  She 
had  but  mistily  sensed  the  monologue  of 
the  Mystic.  But  the  last  proposition  pen 
etrated  her  inner  consciousness.  His  ref 
erence  to  birds  had  recalled  her  to  her 
self,  for  she  was  a  member  of  the  Audu- 
bon  Society  and  quite  up  on  birds.  She 
now  realized  that  she  had  been  indifferent 
and  almost  rude  to  one  whom  Kankakee 
regarded  as  harmless. 

Her  Chicago  good  nature  asserted  it 
self.  "Well,  you  do  just  talk  to  beat  the 


58  Discords  of  Devolution 

band"-— politely — "as  we  girls  say  at  the 
Yards.  Now  what  was  that  you  were  just 
saying  about  birds  and  flies  ? ' ' 

"I  was  trying  to  say  this" — gasped  the 
Mystic  huskily,  as  he  reached  out,  touch 
ing  the  border  of  her  belt  ribbon  to  hold 
her  attention.  "I  was  saying  that  you 
must  be  mine.  Listen, — this  secret  shall 
not  be  mine  alone,  but  ours  henceforth. 
Together  in  aeons  past  you  and  I,  sweet 
creature,  proceeded  from  primordial  One- 
Substance.  From  the  remote  to  the  now, 
from  the  now  to  the  ultimate  we  have 
been  and  shall  be  one.  As  we  hereinbe 
fore  evolved  ourselves  from  the  potential 
ities  of  the  duplex  soul,  so  shall  we  to 
gether  involve  ourselves  hereinafter  in  the 
blessedness  of  nothing.  Though  you  have 
not  reached  my  own  karmic  height,  you 
may  Aspire.  Though  you  do  not  cognize 
the  immutable  from  my  own  lofty  perch 
of  perfect  attainment,  I  will  wait,  calmly 
wait,  until  you  by  long  self-unfoldment 
shall  rise  to  the  state  of  being  of  ME." 

"0,    come    off!" — ejaculated    the    fair 


The  Mansard  Roof  59 

girl,  at  last  losing  patience.  "You  make 
me  tired.  I  say,  let's  get  a  move" — and 
emphasizing  her  speech  with  a  yawn,  she 
gathered  up  a  handful  of  back  draperies 
and  turned  away. 

"Alas,  and  alas," — mournfully  mur 
mured  the  mystic.  "It  is  as  I  was  warned 
by  the  Director  of  our  division.  You 
have  not  as  yet  cognized  your  higher  self, 
hence  have  not  perceived  ME.  You  have 
not  as  yet  sensed  this  fair  fleshly  veil  as 
but  the  vehicle  of  your  higher  principles 
and  quite  separate  from  your  ultimate 
ego.  All  the  same,  you're  mine.  I  will 
not  repudiate  you.  You  are  the  feminine 
principle  co-ordinating  with  myself,  and 
though  you  may  ignore  this  only  oppor 
tunity,  yet  I  will  bide  your  awakening  and 
your  renunciation  of  error.  Though  you 
may  defeat  your  own  illumination  by  re 
nouncing  ME,  yet  will  I  continue  to  walk 
the  fifty-seven  Paths-of-Self  and  wait.  It 
rests  with  you,  girl,  to  fix  the  happy  day 
now,  or  to  postpone  it  through  tedious  in 
carnations.  It  is  for  you  to  say  now 


60  Discords  of  Devolution 

whether  you  will  fly  with  me  to  India  and 
share  with  me  in  the  coming  centuries  in 
the  ecstatic  contemplation  of  the  One- 
Horned-Hair  of  the  Sacred-Babbit.  Are 
you  ready  to  aspire  for  aeons?  Are  you 
prepared  to  meditate  for  cycles  upon  the 
oneness  of  substance  and  the  Be-Ness  of 
Being;  attaining  thereby  to  the  ultimate 
exaltation  of  Nirvanic  vacuity?  Speak, 
bright  one,  sweet  spirit  of  Chicago,  say,— 
I  WILL.  Delay  not.  Your  consent  I  im 
plore.  Miss  Sheets,  Imogene,  what  is  your 
answer?" 

'  *  B —  a  —  a  —  t  — , "  but  the  maiden 
checked  herself  with  a  little  scream,  for 
unheard  and  unperceived  came  Nemesis. 

Bill  Vanderhook  stood  face  to  face  with 
the  importunate  Mystic  and  the  ruffled 
Typewriter. 

And  the  druggist,  fresh,  rosy  and  sleek, 
from  the  best  of  barbers  and  haberdash 
ers,  loomed  up  handsomely  by  contrast 
with  the  now  weary,  wilted  and  woebegone 
Lonnie. 

" Imogene  Sheets" — and  the  words  cut 


The  Mansard  Roof  61 

the  air  like  a  whip  cracker, — "and  I  also 
say  that  the  day  and  the  hour  is  now. 
There's  to  be  no  more  fooling.  Business 
is  business.  Here's  where  we  change  the 
score.  Here's  where  we  decide  who's  cap- 
tain  of  this  game.  I'm  up  to  all  sorts  of 
games,  and  I'm  going  to  know  now  which 
of  us  rooters  is  IT.  I'm  a  kicker  and  a 
catcher  and  a  shortstop  and  a  batter  all 
in  one." 

Miss  Sheets  turned  deadly  pale  as  Bill 
continued:  "Now,  which  is  it,  the  Yogy 
cave  with  him  in  India,  or  the  two-story— 
basement  —  brown  stone  —  swell  front  - 
modern  conveniences  and  mansard  roof 
with  Bill  Vanderhook  in  Kankakee? 
Speak,  girl." 

"The — the — man — sar-r-d  roof."  The 
words  came  faintly  from  the  trembling 
lips  of  the  agitated  girl.  But  the  rivals 
caught  the  import.  Had  they  been  inaudi 
ble  the  rejected  lover  would  have  sensed 
the  thought  and  perceived  her  answer. 

But  he  made  no  protest.  Philosophers 
never  do.  He  did  not  speak.  He  did  not 


62  Discords  of  Devolution 

even  cast  upon  her  a  reproachful  look, 
nor  one  of  anger  upon  his  rival.  He  only 
made  one  little  moan  with  a  faint  far- 
offness  in  the  vibration,  and  then  for  the 
second  time  the  unhappy  Mystic  lay  as  one 
dead  at  the  feet  of  his  affinity. 

"Well,  isn't  that  fierce!"  and  Imogene 
looked  on  with  sweet  womanly  sympathy 
while  Bill,  the  now  triumphant  lover, 
lifted  Lonnie  like  he  was  a  pigskin  and 
hoisted  him  into  the  auto.  "Sure  thing," 
said  Bill,  joyously.  "He  got  it  in  the  neck 
that  time.  Come,  Petsy,  we've  got  to  honk 
some.  We  must  revive  him  on  the  Q.  T. 

"I'll  take  him  home  with  me  and  give 
him  about  four  fingers  with  ginger  on  the 
side.  That'll  fetch  him." 

Imogene  looked  her  admiration  of  Bill's 
generosity,  and  then,  gathering  her  drap 
eries  and  snuggling  down  by  her  future 
Chauffeur,  she  sighed  a  little  as  she  looked 
upon  the  inert  gentleman  on  the  back  seat 
—saying  more  to  herself  than  to  Bill, 
"Isn't  it  a  pity  he  has  fits!" 


®fy,  ttrilh  and  uinolg  Wtearb  of  tfyr  Wrat ; 
Wnrthy,  itiinsnmr  utorhrr  of  ll|^  (Frat ; 
Wakrful,  «tatr!jful,  mtsf  onr, 
anft  tnnozij  urirjljt,  all 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  THE  HIGHEST  DEGREE. 

Five  long  and  fateful  years  had  rolled 
up  the  self-inflicted  sacrifices  of  the  man 
from  Kankakee. 

In  the  remote  glades  of  Gingalee  lonely 
Alonzo  Leffingwell  has  finally  completed 
the  curriculum  of  the  fifty-seven  Paths  in 
accordance  with  schools  of  Hindustan. 

The  Western  Votary  of  "Meditation" 
had  attained  to  the  Highest  Degree  of 
"the  first  Discipline." 

He  is  now  descended  from  the  inacces 
sible  mountain  upon  which  he  received  his 
education  in  the  Lesser  Attainments. 

He  is  now  released  from  the  "Cave  of 
the  Happy  Musings  of  Misery." 

His  pilgrimages,  penances  and  prostra 
tions  are  suspended. 

He   is   temporarily   absolved   from   the 

65 


66  Discords  of  Devolution 

Wheel  of  Chance.  He  has,  as  it  were, 
cut  out  the  "Circle  of  Transmigration." 
He  is  taking  a  vacation. 

And  just  here  (as  Alonzo  afterward  ex 
plained  in  Kankakee)  should  be  made  some 
explanation  of  the  wide  difference  and  dis 
tinction  between  the  mystico-theosophic- 
scholastic  courses  of  Illinois  and  India. 

In  the  Eastern  branch  TIME  is  the  es 
sential. 

In  the  Western  school  Hustle  is  the  key. 

In  the  East  forty  to  fifty  years  are  con 
sumed  in  mere  preparation  in  initiatory 
contemplation,  abstraction,  introspection 
and  absorption.  Oriental  methods  call  for 
time  without  dates,  and  a  hundred  years 
in  the  achievement  of  Gnanum  is  consid 
ered  excellent  work. 

The  practice  of  doubling  or  "ponying," 
which  obtains  not  merely  in  Illinois,  but 
which  distinguished  Western  scholarship 
generally,  is  unknown  in  India. 

These  methods  are,  however,  invaluable 
when  the  American  seeks  wisdom  in  the 
Indian  schools.  By  thus  doubling  or  do- 


In  the  Highest  Degree  67 

ing  extra  time  Alonzo  Leffingwell  broke 
the  record. 

At  first  the  deprivation  of  soap,  towels 
and  other  civilized  accessories  appeared 
important.  At  times  he  yearned  for  a  fine- 
tooth  comb  and  a  safety  razor.  However, 
when  he  had  sat  for  six  months  without 
a  change  of  position,  and  after  he  had  held 
up  his  hands  for  several  weeks  at  a 
stretch,  he  ceased  to  feel  the  need  of  these 
things. 

Thus  he  conquered  the  Material  and 
attained  to  the  first  stages  of  Nothingness 
in  five  brief  years. 

These  years  of  Mounting  the  Spiral 
were,  however,  very  trying  to  the  Occi 
dental  Man,  who  had  been  used  to  the 
Spirit  of  Chicago  and  the  Push  of  Illinois. 
His  Oriental  education  wholly  lacked  the 
stimuli  of  association  and  competition. 

For  months  he  would  have  no  other  com 
pany  than  his  own  image  in  the  Sacred 
Lake  by  day,  and  his  own  reflection  in  the 
night  time. 

For  weeks  together  he  heard  no  sounds 


68  Discords  of  Devolution 

nor  had  any  news  of  outside  life  except  the 
growl  of  a  tiger  or  the  laugh  of  some  hy 
ena  in  the  mountain  fastnesses. 

This  was  especially  depressing  to  one 
who  had  been  reared  on  the  Morning  and 
Evening  editions  and  to  whom  yellow 
journalism  was  food  and  drink. 

Anything  like  a  ''Scoop"  is  not  likely  to 
occur  in  Mystic  Circles  in  a  thousand 
years. 

For  a  long  time  the  life  in  Gingalee 
seemed  unutterably  slow.  He  found  him 
self  where  advertising  as  an  art  had  not 
opened  up.  There  was  nothing  to  "ex 
ploit"  and  nobody  to  exploit  it. 

He  found  that  men  of  his  chosen  profes 
sion  were  not  expected  to  talk  about  them 
selves  nor  boast  of  their  successes.  At  first 
this  was  so  oppressive  to  the  Seer  from 
the  States  that  he  almost  regretted  leav 
ing  Kankakee.  For,  to  boast  of  the  length 
of  one's  nails  growing  through  the  Palms 
would  be  voted  exceedingly  bad  taste; 
and  to  exhibit  satisfaction  in  the  length  of 
time  one  could  meditate  upon  the  "inspir- 


In  the  Highest  Degree  69 

ated  breath"  would  be  set  down  as  a  weak 
ness  unworthy  of  a  Wise  Man. 

Alonzo  Leffingwell,  therefore,  practiced 
his  Western  methods  and  took  his  East 
ern  Degrees  without  announcing  it  in 
Headlines.  He  did  not  even  send  out  a 
circular,  nor  display  a  poster. 

By  close  application,  however,  he  ac 
complished  in  five  years  what  would  have 
required  fifty  years  for  the  native  Hindu- 
stance. 

He  was  now,  physically  speaking,  quite 
another  man.  He  was  quite  another  be 
ing  than  was  he  who  had  fallen  at  the  feet 
of  Imogene  Silesia  Sheets  that  June  night 
in  Kankakee.  His  Physical  Vehicle  was 
now  but  an  underlying  skeleton  with  an 
overlaid  sun-baked  skin. 

For  days  together  he  sat  folded  up  like 
a  jack-knife,  or  knotted  like  a  piece  of 
string.  He  was  impervious  alike  to  heat 
and  cold,  sunshine  and  storm,  or  mosqui 
toes  and  antimires.  And  as  for  this  whole 
physical  world,  though  still  in  it,  he  was 
not  of  it.  He  was  now,  as  far  as  the  appe- 


70  Discords  of  Devolution 

tites  and  desires  of  the  flesh  are  concerned, 
of  no  possible  pleasure  to  himself  nor  to 
anyone  else.  Physically,  or  exoterically 
speaking,  Alonzo  Leffingwell  was  no  more. 

All  this,  however,  was  but  the  external, 
physical,  material  view.  Esoterically,  or 
astrally  speaking,  our  hero  had  achieved 
the  supreme  object  of  Yog,  and  in  reality 
the  young  man  had  never  been  so  much 
alive,  so  joyously  youthful,  so  entirely 
free,  or  so  recklessly  gay. 

For  it  was  now  Alonzo  Leffingwell,  the 
astral  man,  who  at  will  walked  in  and  out 
of  the  crumpled  up  physical  shell  and  levi 
tated  gaily  through  tangled  jwngle  and 
dreary  desert. 

It  was  not  the  body  but  the  spirit,  the 
ethereal  man,  which  clove  the  atmosphere 
and  hied  itself  away  through  space,  quite 
independent  of  all  our  clumsy  means  of 
locomotion,  of  our  ships  and  railways,  and 
our  foolish  bikes  and  autos.  In  this  su 
perior  state  he  became  a  very  active  mem 
ber  of  the  great  body  politic.  He  was 


In  the  Highest  Degree  71 

continually  on  the  go.  He  went  every 
where  and  saw  everything. 

Questions  of  salary  and  transportation 
were  done.  He  had  no  baggage  to  check. 
He  had  no  hotel  bills,  no  tips  to  pay.  He 
could  no  longer  be  snowbound  nor  flood- 
tied.  He  traveled  on  schedule  time. 

He  was  now  equipped  for  any  old  state 
of  matter.  He  was  impervious  to  dust, 
dirt,  noise,  odors  and  confusion.  He  was 
now  equal  to  Chicago. 

Liberated,  self-supporting  and  self-pro 
pelling,  this  gay  Gnani  betook  himself 
from  the  gloomy  glades  of  Gingalee.  He 
hied  himself  joyously  over  jungle  and 
desert.  He  blithely  skimmed  the  sea.  He 
poised  himself  above  the  breakers  on  his 
native  shore.  His  eyes  were  on  the  set 
ting  sun,  his  heart  in  Kankakee. 

Nothing  asked  he  now  of  any  man.  The 
exactions  of  custom  houses  and  the  ex 
tortions  of  cabmen  were  no  more.  He 
had  forever  escaped  the  abbreviated  bunk 
of  the  Pullman  sleeper,  and  the  elongated 
solicitude  of  the  Pullman  porter. 


72  Discords  of  Devolution 

The  annual  pass,  once  so  prized  by  the 
Kankakee  journalist,  was  now  as  nothing. 
For  He-Who -Knows  is  a  perpetual  dead 
head.  He  has  solved  the  annoyances  of 
travel.  Steamships  and  steam  cars  have 
no  value  to  him.  Transfers  and  trolleys 
trouble  him  no  more. 

HE-WHO-KNOWS  has  indeed  solved 
the  question  of  income  and  transportation. 
He  has  unlimited  credit.  He  is  rapid  tran 
sit  itself. 

Alonzo  Leffingwell,  Freshman  Gnani  of 
Gingalee,  is  master  of  the  lower  levels  of 
space.  He  is  distinctly  in  it. 

His  later  critics  were  only  reverting  to 
facts  when  they  said  that  he  was  "In  the 
air. ' ' 


A  $  panting  $  ank*p  $oga, 
3ln  youthful  grlloui  OJoga, 

Uirrtly  all  tt|t  liurloug  yrar; 
tn  tt|p  tf°^p  of  IKarma, 
HO  utrrk  Ijr  iwnulb  not  Ijarm  a 
'g»quitn,  Bitting,  ainging  on  J|ia  rar. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  GAY  GNANI  OF  GINGALEE. 

These  same  five  years  had  rolled  over 
the  Mansard  Roof.  The  State  Asylum 
still  extended  its  hospitalities  to  the  ir 
responsible  and  extra-illumined.  The  Van- 
derhook  Drug  Store  remained  as  the 
LEADER,  with  additions  and  enlarge 
ments  of  stock. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Win.  K.  Vanderhook,  Jr., 
continued  as  ornaments  to  society,  whose 
goings  and  comings  were  recorded,  not 
only  in  the  local  Clarion,  but  in  the  big 
Chicago  pink  and  green  Sporting  Extras 
whenever  they  attended  the  Horse  Show 
or  came  in  to  root  for  the  Cubs — or  en 
tered  a  fancy  cat  or  dog  for  the  annual 
''Show." 

To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Vanderhook  these  had 
been  years  of  social  advancement  and  ma- 

75 


76  Discords  of  Devolution 

terial  success.  Since  his  father's  death, 
the  drug  business  had  prospered  in  his 
son's  hands.  The  young  man  had  also 
developed  interest  in  politics  and  acquired 
a  few  ambitions  in  Kankakee.  Our  old 
friend  "Bill"  was  now  "William."  He 
was  more  than  this.  He  was  known  and 
referred  to  as  the  Honorable  Wm.  K. 
Vanderhook;  for  he  had  enjoyed  succes 
sive  honors  as  Councilman,  Mayor,  and 
was  now  talked  of  for  the  Legislature. 
It  was  in  view  of  this  that  his  friends  gave 
him  the  complimentary  prefix. 

He  was  also  Captain  of  the  Home 
Guard,  Chairman  of  the  County  Commit 
tee,  Secretary  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  and 
President  of  the  Electric  Light  Plant. 

All  this  he  was,  and  did,  and  still  um 
pired  at  many  a  ball  game,  and  judged  at 
all  the  Baby  Shows. 

And  what  of  his  wife,  the  adorable 
Typewriter,  who  had  chosen  the  "Man 
sard  Roof"  and  given  notice  to  Slaughter 
&  Steers  on  that  sunny  June  morning  five 
years  ago? 


The  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee         77 

She  was  the  same  charming  and  insou 
ciant  Imogene,  the  same  dainty  and  deb- 
onnair  creature  who  had  so  swiftly  cap 
tured  the  town  and  won  for  herself  all 
modern  conveniences  and  many  of  the  lux 
uries. 

She  was  a  light  in  the  first  circle  of 
Kankakee.  She  gave  "functions."  Her 
"At  homes"  were  highly  spoken  of.  Her 
Pink  Teas  and  Lavender  Dinners,  and  red 
Touring  Car  and  yellow  Toy  Dogs  were 
the  talk  of  the  town. 

With  a  gentle  but  firm  hand  she  ruled 
her  husband's  house,  and  purse — and  him 
self — when  he  was  not  looking. 

Near-silks  and  close-to-Seals  and  Rhine 
stones  knew  her  no  more.  It  was  now  the 
Real  Thing,  and  nickle-saving  days  were 
past,  and  the  trolley  car  and  the  matinee 
gallery  were  forgotten. 

But  she  still  remembered  Alonzo  Lef- 
fmgwell.  She  occasionally  wondered  if  he 
had  forgotten  her. 

Tonight  is  the  fifth  anniversary  of  their 


78  Discords  of  Devolution 

marriage,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Vanderhook 
have  entertained  a  large  company. 

The  best  people  of  Kankakee  and  some 
choice  friends  of  Chicago  had  gathered 
under  the  Mansard  Roof.  It  was  a  long- 
remembered  festivity.  Society  called  it  a 
Swell  Affair.  Imogene  had  invited  them 
to  a  ''little  informal,"  but  the  Honorable 
William  privately  declared  it  to  be  a 
Blow-Out. 

From  whichever  point  of  view  it  was 
considered  it  was  the  climax  of  the  Van 
derhook  social  successes. 

It  is  long  past  midnight.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
V-  -  are  at  last  alone.  The  fifth  anni 
versary  has  passed  into  history.  The 
guests  are  gone.  The  great  house  is  empty. 
The  doors  are  closed.  The  burglar-alarm 
is  set. 

On  departing,  each  guest  had  raptur 
ously  pronounced  the  whole  thing  a  suc 
cess.  So  did  the  host  and  hostess  later  on 
—when  they  had  counted  and  compared 
the  value  of  the  gifts  with  the  cost  of  the 
entertainment. 


The  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee         79 

When  they  discovered  that  the  presents 
would  figure  up  twice  over  the  cost  of  the 
reception,  they  retired  to  their  sleeping 
rooms  elate  with  the  consciousness  of  hav 
ing  discharged  many  social  obligations, 
and  their  duty  to  themselves. 

"You're  a  dandy,  Genesy,  and  no  mis 
take,"  ejaculated  the  Mayor,  with  admira 
tion.  "You  were  dead  right,  but  I  had  no 
idea  it  would  pan  out  like  this,"  and  her 
husband  playfully  tweaked  the  golden  curl 
that  fell  so  prettily  over  the  lady's  brow. 

"Gump!"  and  the  lovely  Imogene 
laughed  in  the  same  high  soprano  that  be 
longed  to  the  "Yards."  She  tossed  her 
head,  and  made  a  little  snatch  at  the 
Mayor. 

Then  Mr.  Vanderhook  himself  laughed 
loudly  as  he  dodged  the  blow,  for  he  was 
still  holding  the  golden  curl  in  his  hand. 

"You're  an  It,"  and,  playfully  recap 
turing  her  curl  and  pinning  it  to  the  cush 
ion,  Imogene  went  on  with  the  inventory 
of  the  gifts  and  criticisms  of  their  guests. 

It  was  not  so  much  what  they  said,  but 


80  Discords  of  Devolution 

it  was  the  fond  and  familiar  tone  of  their 
delicate  joshing  that  indicated  a  still  un 
broken  confidence  between  husband  and 
wife. 

But  strange  is  the  play  of  fate.  Strange 
indeed,  that  in  the  supreme  moments  of 
human  pride  and  vanity  and  self-satisfac 
tion  the  "mills  of  the  gods"  begin  to  get 
in  their  work. 

Wise  the  provision  of  nature  which  de 
nies  us  foreknowledge  of  tomorrow's  dis 
asters,  penalties  and  retributions. 

Tonight  had  been  the  proudest  of  Bill 
Vanderhook's  life.  He  had  heard  himself 
and  his  possessions  lauded  to  the  skies. 
He  had  heard  his  wife  called  the  handsom 
est  and  best  dressed  woman  in  Kankakee. 
He  had  heard  himself  praised  for  his  pop 
ularity  as  Mayor,  for  his  ability  as  Cap 
tain  of  the  Guard,  for  his  cleverness  as 
Chairman  of  the  Committee,  his  efficiency 
in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  his  judgment  in  the 
Electric  Light  Company;  and  besides  all 
this  had  heard  himself  referred  to  as  "our 
next  candidate  for  Congress."  He  had 


The  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee        81 

heard  his  house,  his  wine,  his  wife,  com 
mended.  He  had  heard  himself  toasted 
as  a  self-made  gentleman.  His  cup  was 
full. 

And  now  he  is  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the 
just.  Man-like,  he  had  with  one  jerk  di 
vested  himself  of  his  habiliments  and 
plunging  into  bed  was  fast  asleep  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye. 

Not  so  the  fair  Imogene.  Woman-fash 
ion,  she  needs  must  putter  about,  making 
many  unnecessary  preparations  for  re 
tirement.  She  had  unbuckled,  unhooked, 
unbuttoned,  unpinned,  untied  and  unlaced. 
She  had  taken  off,  shaken  out,  folded, 
hung  up,  taken  down,  picked  up,  pulled  off 
and  straightened  out  all  the  things  that  a 
woman  gets  out  of  and  gets  into  between 
an  evening  function  and  breakfast  next 
morning. 

And  finally,  standing  before  her  mirror 
white-robed  and  picturesque,  her  yellow 
locks  rolled  into*  little  wads,  her  beauty 
mask  in  readiness,  her  night  gloves  at 
hand,  she  leans  toward  her  own  reflection 


82  Discords  of  Devolution 

smiling  softly  and  begins  rubbing  some 
creamy  stuff  into  her  complexion. 

She  was  smiling  at  and  enjoying  the  re 
flection  of  the  new  diamond  ear-rings,  Bill's 
anniversary  gift.  She  was  enjoying  them 
as  only  a  woman  can,  in  her  mirror,  when 
suddenly — she  started.  She  became  aware 
of  a  Something  Unusual.  It  was  a  Pres 
ence  that — was  not  Bill.  She  felt  very  cold 
all  at  once.  She  forgot  whether  she  was 
massaging  in  the  circular  or  horizontal. 
Then  she  turned  hastily  and  just  in  time 
to  witness  a  very  remarkable  phenome 
non. 

Directly  before  her,  clothed  like  a  fash 
ion  plate,  trim  and  debonnaire,  hat  in  hand, 
and  bowing  and  smiling,  stood  the  man 
she  had  rejected  and  forgotten  years  ago. 

Imogene  Silesia  Sheets  -Vanderhook 
stood  face  to  face  with  the  youthful  yoga 
of  Kankakee,  the  now  powerful  Gnani  of 
Gingalee. 

The  lady's  sense  of  the  proprieties  was 
shocked.  Her  blood  ran  hot  with  anger. 
Then  she  remembered  for  a  certainty  the 


The  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee        83 

fast  Bolted  doors  and  the  burglar  alarm, 
and  then  her  blood  ran  cold  with  fear. 

The  silver  box  fell  from  her  hand.  She 
screamed  in  terror.  She  sprang  forward, 
wildly  calling  for  Bill,  when — the  gentle 
manly  intruder,  still  smiling,  still  bowing, 
withdrew  as  he  came — directly  through 
the  panels  of  the  bolted  door. 

"Oh,  Bill!   Oh,  Bill!  Oh,  Bill!" 

But  Bill  had  heard  nothing.  He  had 
schooled  himself  to  noises.  Sunday  morn 
ing  sermons  made  him  drowsy,  and  he 
often  slept  profoundly  when  Mrs.  V.  rag- 
timed  on  the  piano. 

He  had  not  heard  that  scream  of  terror. 
He  had  not  sensed  the  thing  which  had 
fallen  upon  his  hitherto  happy  home.  It 
required  a  vigorous  shaking  to  arouse  him. 

But  when  once  awake  and  listening  to 
his  wife's  rehearsal  of  the  incident,  Bill 
Vanderhook  was  stirred.  He  was  no  longer 
drowsy.  He  was  never  so  wide  awake. 
The  Mayor  of  Kankakee  paled  and 
trembled.  Memory  was  rife.  He  recalled 
Alonzo  LeffingwelPs  departure  and  the 


84  Discords  of  Devolution 

cause.  He  remembered  his  own  part  in 
that  fatal  introduction.  He  remembered 
the  mystic's  claim  upon  Mrs.  V.  And 
worse  than  all,  he  could  not  forget  the  con 
ditional  curse  pronounced  upon  himself. 

Bill  Vanderhook  realized  his  responsi 
bility.  A  cold  thrill  ran  spineward  and 
radiated  therefrom.  It  is  said  that  drown 
ing  men  pass  in  review  a  whole  lifetime. 
So  Bill  Vanderhook  in  that  one  moment 
saw  as  in  a  vision  his  own  domestic  past. 
Though  the  years  had  but  augmented  his 
own  devotion  to  Imogene  Silesia,  he  had 
sometimes  fancied  that  she,  since  coming 
into  the  Presidency  of  the  Advanced- 
Thought-Extension  Club,  had  at  times  ap 
peared  indifferent  and  distrait.  He  now 
recalled  with  an  inward  chill  the  forebod 
ing  that  she  now  rarely  came  into  the  Drug 
Store  except  for  a  check,  and  that  she  no 
longer  entered  joyously  into  the  yearly 
replenishing  of  the  ' '  Stock. ' ' 

He  remembered  further,  that  on  one  or 
two  occasions  she  had  spoken  as  if  she 
missed  something  in  him.  She  had  once 


The  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee        85 

or  twice  yawned  when  he  was  repeating 
some  very  flattering  things  said  about  him 
self  in  his  several  capacities  and  offices. 

A  spasm  of  fear  shook  the  gray  matter 
in  the  druggist's  head,  swept  through  the 
spine  and  circled  round  into  the  Solar 
Plexus — where  masculine  emotions  seem 
to  center.  He  felt  very  weak  all  in  a 
minute. 

"Imogene,  Imogene,  where  is  that 
Flask?  Gimme  that — I've  got  a  chill;  I 
might  as  well  try  it  now." 

The  flask,  an  elegant  silver  and  cut  glass 
affair,  had  been  among  the  evening's 
gifts.  It  was  presented  by  the  old  Base 
Ball  Nine.  It  was  full  when  it  took  its 
place  in  line  with  other  cards,  but  it  was 
lighter  when  congratulations  were  over. 

It  was  empty  when  the  Mayor  of  Kan- 
kakee  dropped  it  on  the  floor  by  his  bed 
side. 

Still  he  was  cold,  very  cold,  and  still 
the  fatal  words  "REMEMBER,  YOU  AS 
SUME  MY  RESPONSIBILITY"  ran- 
through  the  chambers  of  his  memory. 


86  Discords  of  Devolution 

"Shut  that  window,  Genesy  dear,  the 
night  air  gives  me  a  chill.  Shut  it  tight, 
no — leave  the  switch  on — I  sleep  better  in 
the  light,  and  see  here,  now,  my  girl,  I 
don't  want  to  hear  any  more  about  that 
mutton-head  Leffingwell.  You  did  not  see 
him  or  any  other  Spook,  and  I  don't  want 
you  to  let  your  imagination  run  away  with 
you. ' ' 

Saying  which,  that  gentleman  turned  his 
face  bravely  to  the  wall  and — pretended  to 
sleep. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

THE  BOOK  AND  THE  BAGDAD. 

The  fears  of  the  druggist  were  well 
founded. 

That  night  marked  a  new  era  in  the 
Vanderhook  home.  After  five  years  of 
profound  silence,  the  discarded  lover  took 
advantage  of  his  mysterious  powers  and 
became  an  unsought,  uninvited,  but  per 
manent  guest  in  his  successful  rival's 
house. 

From  this  date  forward  no  day,  nor  oc 
casion,  was  free  from  his  presence  or  the 
expectation  of  it.  From  this  day  forward 
an  estrangement  developed  between  the 
hitherto  apparently  devoted  husband  and 
wife.  At  first,  the  still  charming  Imogene 
was  somewhat  awed  by  the  unusual  meth 
ods  of  entrance  and  exit  practiced  by  this 
foreign-mannered  Mystic.  It  did  seem  so 

87 


88  Discords  of  Devolution 

very  novel  and  so  very  creepy  to  see  a 
gentleman  sliding  in  through  the  dado  and 
melting  out  through  the  frieze. 

Since  witnessing  the  swift  and  scientific 
pig  killing  at  the  Yards,  she  had  seen 
nothing  at  once  so  rapid  in  execution  and 
so  shocking  to  the  nerves.  The  first  time 
she  observed  the  back  of  a  chair  through 
her  admirer's  waistcoat  it  gave  her  a  genu 
ine  chill.  Habit,  however,  dissipated  the 
sense  of  awe  and  the  lady  became  amused, 
then  entertained,  and  finally  deeply  inter 
ested — as  a  student  of  Advanced  Thought. 

And  further,  Mrs.  V.  soon  discovered 
many  agreeable  qualities  in  this  diapha 
nous  and  cultivated  Gnani,  qualities  which 
by  contrast  intensified  the  native  inele 
gance  of  her  husband. 

Indeed,  so  swift  was  the  progress  of 
this  marvelous  romance  that  it  was  but  a 
matter  of  weeks  until  the  lawful  master  of 
the  Vanderhook  mansion  saw  himself  rel 
egated  to  a  position  inferior  to  that  of 
the  hired  man.  He  inwardly  chafed  and 
outwardly  expressed  himself  in  large, 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad          89 

round  and  unusual  words.  In  vain,  how 
ever,  for  notwithstanding  both  inward 
rage  and  outward  expletives,  the  Honor 
able  William  K.  Vanderhook,  of  Kanka- 
kee,  was  as  nothing  in  the  presence  of  this 
witty  and  agreeable  shade  who  pervaded 
the  atmosphere  at  all  tunes  and  in  all  di 
rections. 

And  what  of  the  wife — she  who  had  de 
liberately  chosen  the  Mansard  Roof — she 
who  for  five  years  had  earned  her  board 
and  clothes  with  at  least  every  appearance 
of  genuine  satisfaction? 

She  was  now  as  one  bewitched.  She  was 
deaf  to  both  Bill's  appeals  and  to  his  im 
precations.  She  was  no  longer  moved  by 
presents.  She  was  a  wholly  changed  wo 
man. 

When  Bill  would  protest  more  savagely 
than  usual,  she  would  say, — "Now,  don't 
be  a  grouch.  I  don't  see  that  he  can  do 
any  harm  to  anybody.  And  besides,  he 
is  no  expense  to  you,  and  he's  no  trouble 
to  me." 

And  thus  it  was  that  the  once  happy 


90  Discords  of  Devolution 

home  became  a  battlefield  of  words — words 
sharp,  pointed,  prickly  and  jagged.  Bill's 
temper,  usually  so  sunny,  became  like 
a  sheet  of  sand  paper.  His  appetite 
fell  off  and  his  belt  hooked  in  the  fourth 
eyelet.  But  Imogene,  feeding  upon  a  fresh 
flirtation,  bloomed  again  to  girlish  gaiety. 
In  the  presence  of  this  suave  and  insinuat 
ing  astral  interloper  she  resumed  all  the 
fascinations  and  fripperies  of  the  old  days 
at  the  Yards. 

Imogene  Silesia  Vanderhook  had  pro 
gressed. 

Five  years  ago  she  had  not  even  heard 
of  "Occultism."  Now,  however,  since  she 
herself  had  become  an  Advanced  Thinker, 
she  recognized  the  advantages  of  Mysti 
cism. 

The  Club  of  which  she  was  President 
had  given  a  good  deal  of  time  to  the  Ulti 
mate  Destiny  of  Everything.  Only  recently 
she  had  prepared  a  * '  Paper ' '  on  Eeincarna- 
tion  which  had  been  very  highly  spoken 
of.  She  could  now  discuss  the  nature  and 
uses  of  the  Ego  with  the  same  intelligence 


91 


as  did  other  ladies  of  the  Club.  She  had 
spent  hours  together  figuring  out  how  she 
must  have  been  a  Princess — long  ago.  She 
was  now  quite  up  in  karma  and  entirely 
absorbed  in  the  "Uplift." 

It  also  came  to  be  that  while  other  la 
dies  of  Kankakee  Tiddeldy-Winked  and 
Ping-Ponged  or  wasted  time  on  Diabolo, 
or  clung  to  Bridge  Tables,  the  members 
of  the  New  Thought  Club  lost  themselves 
in  PRANAYAMA  and  KUMBHOKA. 
Even  when  their  serious  work  was  over 
they  carried  their  enthusiasm  to  Five 
O'Clock  Tea,  chattering  enthusiastically  of 
PEBUSA  and  KAIVALYA,  and  uttering 
longings  for  the  state  of  NIBVIKALPA. 

Mrs.  Vanderhook  yearned  to  be  the  first 
to  waken  KUNDELINI. 

Bill,  however,  greatly  to  his  wife's  cha 
grin,  had  steadily  declined  every  effort  to 
ward  his  own  illumination.  He  even  on 
one  occasion  used  some  near  swear-words 
when  Imogene  begged  him  to  contemplate 
his  Higher  Self.. 

It  was  indeed  Bill's  own  obtuseness  that 


92  Discords  of  Devolution 

finally  helped  to  turn  the  tide  against  him. 
Had  he  been  less  dense  and  more  amen 
able  to  the  mystical  peregrinations  of  the 
"  Thoughters, "  perhaps  this  tragedy  had 
never  been. 

For  here  we  must  pause  and  explain  how 
our  one-time  Typewriter  was  now  become 
an  Advanced  Thinker. 

The  tragic  love  of  Alonzo  Leffingwell 
and  his  disappearance  from  Kankakee  had 
made  an  indelible  impression  on  the  woman 
who  rejected  him. 

From  this  time  forward  she  became  cu 
rious  about  "Occultism." 

Her  marriage  afforded  the  time  and 
means  necessary  for  the  development  of 
her  Higher  Self — about  which  so  many  la 
dies  were  now  talking. 

Presently  she  was  as  familiar  with 
"Mysticism"  as  other  members  of  the 
New  Thought  Club. 

As  time  went  on  she  enjoyed  an  ever 
extending  acquaintance  with  the  numerous 
and  high-priced  "Professors"  and  Spe 
cialists  in  Higher  Lines  of  business. 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad          93 

While  Bill  was  busy  in  the  drug  store, 
or  looking  after  his  political  fences,  the 
charming  Imogene  was  brushing  up  on 
her  ''Subliminal  Self"  and  learning  how 
to  "Wake  the  Plexus." 

Gradually  Mrs.  Vanderhook  saturated 
her  daily  life  with  studies  of  the  occult, 
adorned  herself  with  mystic  symbols,  and 
prepared  "papers"  for  the  Club,  on  unin 
telligible  subjects. 

The  Occidental  woman  who  "aspires" 
does  nothing  by  halves.  Whatever  her  goal 
of  attainment,  she  conforms  her  activities 
to  that  end,  dedicates  her  energies  to  that 
ambition,  and  colors  every  duty  with  that 
Aspiration. 

In  this  wise  Imogene  converted  all  of  her 
entertainments  and  indulgences  into  ex 
pressions  of  the  Universal,  and  made 
every  day  in  the  week  a  separate  exercise 
for  Self-Development. 

To  the  Western  Woman  has  been  left 
the    co-ordination    of    "Everything — I— 
WANT— TO— DO"  with  "Everything— I 
-ASPIRE— TO— BE." 


94  Discords  of  Devolution 

Mondays  Mrs.  Vanderhook  devoted  to 
Rhythmic  Vibrations  under  the  name  of 
Physical  Culture.  Mornings  she  spent  with 
an  Advanced  Athlete,  rounding  up  with  a 
contest  at  the  Ladies'  Club  Gym,  and  clos 
ing  her  day  with  a  session  at  the  Chicago 
Bargain  Counters.  This  day  of  the  week 
she  devoted  to  swinging  and  swaying  and 
climbing  and  bending  and  twisting  and 
kicking  and  pushing  and  pulling,  that  she 
might  develop  the  "Body  Beautiful"  in 
harmony  with  her  "Higher  Self." 

She  never  missed  a  Monday — in  the 
field — for  like  most  practical  occultists  of 
the  Occident,  she  tended  to  overweight, 
and  for  this  reason  took  kindly  to  the  sug 
gestion  that  reduction  of  the  Surplus 
meant  increase  of  illumination. 

Tuesdays  were  given  over  to  Beauty 
Culture;  or,  as  her  Specialist  said,  "To 
the  making  of  a  countenance  that  shall  vi 
brate  with  the  Beautiful  Inner."  Through 
out  this  day,  therefore,  she  submitted  her 
self  to  be  steamed  and  buttered  and 
rubbed  and  vibrated.  She  endured  to  be 


sponged  and  benzoined  and  rouged  and 
stenciled  and  powdered,  that  she  might 
"affirm  with  her  face"  the  "Radiance  at 
the  Center." 

This  was  but  one  of  the  steps,  for  she 
also  was  shampooed  and  hot-aired  and 
"treated"  and  hennatead  and  brilliantined 
and  ratted  and  marcelled  and  puffed  as  to 
hair;  and  her  hands,  now  freed  from  the 
cramp  of  the  "keys,"  were  also  soaked 
and  creamed  and  massaged,  while  the  nails 
were  pumiced  and  oiled  and  tinted  and 
polished — and  still  some  more,  for  the  or 
deal  ended  in  a  bout  with  depilatories  and 
electric  needles. 

All  these  things  did  Imogene,  the  charm 
ing;  not  that  she  liked  it,  nor  that  she 
was  vain,  but  only  that  her  Professors  in 
sisted  that  "the  Outer  must  Express  the 
Inner. ' ' 

1 '  All-Is- Youth  "  and  "  There- Are-No 
"Wrinkles"  are  the  watchwords  of  a  lady 
who  has  "found  Herself." 

Wednesdays  were  set  aside  for  another 
phase  of  co-ordination.  This  day  was  giv- 


96  Discords  of  Devolution 

en  over  to  the  Nature-Cure  Treatment,  in 
which  process  she  was  played  upon  by  vig 
orous  streams  of  alternating  hot  and  cold 
water.  She  was  Osteopathed  and  Exer 
cised.  She  was  warmed  in  the  Sun-Par 
lor,  concentrated  under  blue  glass  and 
aired  on  the  roof  garden. 

After  this  she  ate  a  Nature-Cure  Lunch 
eon  of  Almost-Ox-Tail  Soup,  Near-Meat 
Salad,  and  other  pretty  nearly  foods, 
drinking  Boastum  Cereal — thus  eliminat 
ing  the  poisons  of  other  medical  systems, 
and  developing  the  Cosmic  Consciousness. 

It  was  therefore  Wednesday  evening 
that  the  lady  drank  lemon  juice  copiously 
and  slept  under  the  Mansard  Eoof  swath 
ed  in  wet  sheets — slept  calmly,  with  an 
abiding  faith  in  the  illuminative  power  of 
her  Water-Soaked  System. 

Thursdays,  however,  were  reserved  for 
the  higher  phases  of  her  intellectual  up 
lift.  This  day  was  set  apart,  as  one  of 
the  mystics  expressed  it,  for  "Interior 
Decoration." 
This  day  she  immured  herself  in  her 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad          97 

boudoir,  where,  with  a  roll  before  rising 
and  a  kimona  all  day  long,  she  gave  her 
self  entirely  to  the  "Contemplation  of 
Herself."  For  this  day  were  reserved  the 
most  mystical  books  and  profounder  stud 
ies  and  solemner  exercises. 

Several  hours  of  this  day  she  gave  to 
"The  Secrets  of  Mental  Supremacy,"  and 
in  the  effort  to  attain  "Consciousness 
without  Thought"  she  spent  many  a  half 
hour.  Much  time  she  consumed  before  her 
mirror  in  "Meditative  Self- Analysis." 
Again  and  again  would  her  lunch  grow 
cold  while  she  was  occupied  in  one  of  these 
many  expensive  Occult  or  Therapeutical 
Courses,  purchased  from  leading  Wise 
Men  in  Illinois.  One  of  these  covered 
Practical  Occultism,  another  was  Trans 
cendental  Mysticism.  In  still  another  she 
worked  upon  Rhythmic  Inspiration,  and 
yet  another  she  was  studying  the  How  to 
Breathe — but  none  among  them  was  more 
profoundly  veiled  in  mystic  meaning  than 
the  Course  on  "How  to  Ascertain  the 
Heart  Beat  Unit."  At  times  she  was  so 


98  Discords  of  Devolution 

engaged  in  "Concentration"  that  she 
would  fall  asleep.  At  other  times  she  be 
came  enthused  in  the  effort  to  discover  the 
Inner  Meaning  of  the  Meaningless.  She 
became  very  skillful  in  the  Expansion  of 
Self  and  Manifested  the  Joy  Philosophy 
every  time  she  enlarged  her  Aura. 

Fridays  were  set  apart  for  what  the 
lady  termed  "Expression" — that  is  to  say, 
Fridays  were  selected  for  Social  visits  and 
"At  homes,"  on  which  day  she  gave  a 
Manifestation  of  her  several  acquire 
ments,  making  the  rounds — that  her 
friends  might  observe  the  Outer  Beauty 
from  the  Radiant  Center.  This  she  felt 
to  be  the  solemn  duty  of  the  Elect — that 
they  set  up  the  Joy  and  Beauty  Vibra 
tions  in  other  women. 

As  a  result  of  her  strenuous  lessons  in 
Attainment  she  became  the  admired  and 
envied  of  other  New  Thought  Ladies. 
This  could  not  fail  to  be,  for  aside  from 
possessing  an  Original  Design  for  this 
ever  increasing  beauty,  Mrs.  Vanderhook 
had  both  the  time  and  money  to  search 


99 

for  her  Highest  Self  in  the  best  shops  and 
under  the  most  expensive  Seers. 

Still  further  and  at  odd  moments  Mrs. 
Vanderhook  increased  her  wisdom  by 
visiting  such  Mystics  as  did  business  near 
the  Beauty  Parlors  and  the  Department 
Stores.  To  one  she  would  go  for  a  Horo 
scope — a  reading  of  the  Stars.  Another 
would  trace  her  glowing  future  in  the  lines 
of  the  palm,  and  another  would  instruct 
her  in  Psychological  Polarity,  and  another 
dealt  in  "Character  Sketches  by  Inspira 
tion." 

There  were  still  others  who  gave  short 
lessons  in  Vibrations — some  who  taught 
"The  Inner  Meanings  of  Everything"  in 
small  blocks  for  large  checks,  and  another, 
the  Telo-Psycho-Theraput,  who  taught  his 
patients  to  meet  him  at  fixed  times — and 
for  fixed  rates — out  in  stellar  Space, 
where  ' '  soul  to  soul ' '  and  '  *  freed  from  the 
Material,"  he  best  could  diagnose  and 
"impart  the  healing  word." 

Still  other  half  hours — for  she  doted  on 
symbolism — Mrs.  Vanderhook  would  spend 


100  Discords  of  Devolution 

with  one  who  advertised  as  "The  World's 
Most  Famous  Seer,"  from  whom  she  pur 
chased  expensive  Charms  and  Sacred 
Bugs  and  things. 

Again  she  would  slip  into  the  "Temple" 
of  one  whose  Circulars  "guaranteed"  in 
formation  concerning  the  Origin  of  Every 
thing  and  its  "Absorption  into  Nothing." 

Inspiring  moments  she  would  steal  for 
the  study  of  Vivilore  and  in  these  brief 
snatches  she  would  ' '  Contemplate  the  Path 
of  Perfection,"  or,  breaking  away  from 
the  downtown  luncheon,  she  would  rush 
for  the  Masonic  Temple,  where  an  Ameri 
can-East  Indian  was  imparting  Fourteen 
lessons  in  Philosophy  in  a  few  minutes. 

"With  Saturday  for  Shopping  and  the 
Matinee,  and  Sunday  for  home  and  Bill, 
the  mistress  of  the  Mansard  Roof  led  the 
life  of  the  up-to-date  New  Woman. 

Thus,  as  time  went  on,  the  erstwhile 
Typewriter  became  thoroughly  "Ad 
vanced,"  and  the  "Yards"  became  a  far 
off  memory. 

And  of  all  this  Bill  knew  nothing. 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad        101 

Like  other  students  of  the  * '  Ultimates, " 
Mrs.  Vanderhook  found  that  her  "At 
tainments"  did  not  mix  well  with  every 
day  commonplaces.  Her  husband's  ab 
sorption  in  the  drug  store,  and  his  fond 
ness  for  a  "Game,"  seemed  quite  to  unfit 
him  for  Higher  Thought. 

Indeed,  at  times  Imogene  seriously 
doubted  Bill's  understanding  of  the  Un 
knowable. 

Bill  was  not  watching  for  the  subtle 
changes  taking  place  in  his  Imogene.  But 
one  phase  of  it  seemed  to  reach  his  ob- 
tunded  consciousness,  for  this  made  a  di 
rect  inroad  upon  his  bank  account. 

The  Special  Course  in  "OPTIMISM 
AND  OPULENCE '  '—for  which  ' '  Ten  Les 
sons  at  reduced  prices"  had  captured  Mrs. 
Vanderhook  as  a  special  bargain — pro 
duced  direct  results  for  which  even  the 
generous  druggist  was  not  prepared. 

From  the  first  "All-is-good"  to  the  mid 
dle  "Opulence-is-MINE"  and  to  the  final 
lesson,  "I-AM-IT,"  Imogene  Vanderhook 
absorbed  and  radiated  this  beautiful  Atti- 


102  Discords  of  Devolution 

tude  of  "I-am-entitled-to-everything-I- 
can-get. ' ' 

Matters  of  expense  were  airily  dis 
missed.  Bill's  "We-can't-afford-it"  was 
met  by  that  splendidly  wide  Optimistic 
Smile  and  ignored  with  that  expensively 
broad  sense  of  Universal  Opulence  which 
is  so  perfectly  fascinating  in  those  who  do 
not  pay  the  bills. 

The  beautiful  feeling  that  "I  can  tap 
the  Universal  for  all  I  need"  and  that  "I 
have  only  to  affirm  OPULENCE  and  have 
it,"  encouraged  the  Mayor's  wife  to  ex 
tend  her  Charge  Accounts  with  a  child 
like  faith  in  the  "Higher  Currents  of 
Wealth." 

Then  again,  Bill  had  experienced  a  sense 
of  loneliness  at  times,  when  he  would 
come  in  with  a  toothache  or  a  touch  of  gas 
tritis,  to  be  assured  that  it  was  all  in  his 
Mortal  Mind,  and  that  what  he  supposed 
was  Pain  was  but  an  "error"  and  instead 
of  the  earlier  coddling  to  receive  but  a 
calm,  vague,  unsympathetic  glance  and  a 


frosty  little  smile  of  one  who  ''Functioned 
in  the  Realities." 

But  these  were  all  mere  incidents,  and 
the  still  devoted  husband  went  on  earning 
dollars  for  his  Imogene  Silesia  to  "radi 
ate." 

Thus  it  was  that  the  Mayor's  wife  had 
been  drawn  into  the  rage  for  "Occultism" 
and  the  current  "Uplift,"  without  his 
knowledge  or  consent,  and  by  "Holding  a 
Thought"  or  two  and  by  means  of  fifty- 
seven  Varieties  of  Unfoldrnent,  had  grad 
ually  unfitted  herself  fully  to  share  her 
husband's  ambitions  and  tastes,  which  still 
centered  in  the  Drug  Store,  the  Lighting 
Plant  and  Politics. 

Thus,  unknown  to  him  and  scarcely  ap 
prehended  by  herself,  the  fair  Imogene 
was  preparing  for  a  Change.  This  was 
why  the  Appearance  of  Alonzo,  the  Wise 
Man,  had  not  disturbed  her  more,  and 
why  she  so  quickly  accepted  him  as  a  mat 
ter  of  course  and  adjusted  herself  to  Ori 
entalisms. 

But    now    that    her    perceptions    were 


104  Discords  of  Devolution 

sharpened,  the  lady  could  not  but  perceive 
the  primordial  relation  between  herself  and 
the  once  despised  Mystic.  She  also  was 
forced  to  cognize  the  enormous  advantage 
of  astral  attainments  over  physical  condi 
tions  and  physical  powers.  She  began  to 
draw  odious  comparisons  and  invidious 
distinctions  between  her  lawful  master 
and  her  extra-lawful  mate. 

' '  Fool,  and  blind, ' ' — she  now  murmured, 
from  time  to  time,  in  just  the  same  tone 
and  with  the  same  wild,  back-handed  ges 
ture  she  had  seen  at  the  Chicago  Opera 
House. 

And  the  Gnani,  day  by  day,  murmured  to 
Ms  Higher  Self, — l '  She  is  advancing  beau 
tifully."  He  noted  the  sweet  trustfulness 
with  which  she  now  leaned  upon  him — that 
is,  philosophically  speaking. 

"She  now  Aspires  from  choice"-— he 
would  whisper  to  himself  again  and  again. 
"She  will  lop  off  several  reincarnations, 
while  I — aha!  ha  ha!" — and  his  gaseous 
form  would  undulate  with  ethereal  ec 
stasy. 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad        105 

In  that  astral  realm  where  thoughts  are 
things  and  business  is  transacted  by  men 
tal  checks,  the  inhabitants  have  distinct 
advantages  over  mere  human  beings  who 
are  circumscribed  by  purveyors  of  goods 
and  settlements  on  a  cash  basis. 

The  learned  Mystic  quite  obscured  the 
Mayor  of  Kankakee.  He  covered  him  with 
humiliation  at  his  own  fireside.  He 
trifled  with  the  husband's  prerogatives. 
For,  did  the  good-natured  Bill,  thinking  to 
propitiate  her  on  the  old  lines,  send  home 
to  Imogene  a  Paris  model  from  the  swell 
modiste,  then  did  his  skillful  rival  at  once 
materialize  for  her  another  headgear  out 
of  nothing,  a  "dream"  so  unique,  so  gor 
geous,  so  becoming  and  so  altogether  stun 
ning,  that  Imogene  would  shriek  with  de 
light,  while  Bill  could  only  grind  his  teeth 
in  rage. 

Did  the  husband  bring  to  his  wife  a 
bunch  of  early  violets,  the  vigilant  Gnani 
would  immediately  materialize  great  loads 
of  American  beauties  towering  upon  ex 
traordinary  stems.  He  would  shower  her 


106  Discords  of  Devolution 

with  Marechal  Niels,  worth  a  dollar  apiece. 
With  but  one  sweep  of  his  hand  a  hundred 
rare  blossoms  would  descend  from  the  ceil 
ing,  covering  and  enveloping  the  lady  in 
beauty  and  bloom. 

Could  any  mere,  mortal  woman  with 
stand  such  attentions  as  these? 

To  please  her  eye  this  ardent  admirer 
rendered  his  appearance  as  alluring  as 
his  manners.  Independent  of  tailors,  and 
with  everything  at  hand,  this  astral  man 
got  himself  up  regardless  of  expense,  and 
thought  on  his  costumes  at  will,  to  meet 
the  requirements  of  the  fashion  plates. 
He  frequently  would  surprise  her  with 
rapid  transformations  of  raiments,  posing 
successively  in  the  distinctive  garbs  of 
many  nations,  races  and  times. 

Perhaps  at  breakfast  it  was  some  Ori 
ental  potentate  in  royal  robes  who  hov 
ered  by  her  side.  At  lunch  a  velvet  coated 
artist,  at  dinner  a  gorgeous  Indian  chief, 
whose  picturesque  scalp-lock,  beads  and 
feathers  and  whose  thrilling  war-whoop 
delighted  her  refined  taste. 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad        107 

And  Alonzo  would  discourse  to  her  oft 
and  long  of  the  beauties  and  practices  of 
"Meditation." 

"But  I'll  be  switched" — she  would  say 
at  times,  "if  I  can  understand  your  kind 
of  mysticism." 

Whereupon  the  seer,  smiling  indulgent 
ly,  would  with  all  perspicuity  reply,— 

"Of  course  you  don't.  I  don't  expect 
you  to.  That  isn't  what  we're  here  for. 
Nobody  understands  mysticism;  for  don't 
you  see,  if  they  did,  or  could,  or  were  likely 
to,  there  wouldn't  be  any  mysticism  left, 
and  then — why,  my  occupation  is  gone." 

"Why,  sure;  I  hadn't  thought  of  it  that 
way"— his  Mate  would  murmur,  and  then 
she  would  add,  "How  sweet  to  be  taught 
by  one  so  wise." 

Moreover,  this  proficient  prestidig 
itator  constituted  himself  her  private  sec 
retary  and  astral  errand  boy.  He  not  only 
precipitated  her  social  correspondence 
upon  kid-finished,  but  he  thus  prepared  all 
of  her  "advanced  thought"  papers,  there 
by  saving  her  long  hours  over  the  Encyclo- 


108  Discords  of  Devolution 

pedia  Britannica.  Still  more,  he  would 
read  to  her  all  letters  and  notes  received, 
thus  saving  her  the  trouble  of  breaking 
the  seals ;  and  to  amuse  and  gratify  her, 
would  peep — astrally,  of  course — and  re 
port  upon  the  private  correspondence  and 
the  private  affairs  of  her  friends  in  Kan- 
kakee. 

And  this  was  but  one  of  the  many  of 
fices  and  arts  he  exploited  to  charm  his 
Affinity.  And  so  it  came  to  be  an  every-day 
occurrence  that  following  any  social  invi 
tation  into  the  exclusive  circles  of  Kanka- 
kee,  Imogene  would  call  to  her  "Llama 
Lonnie,"  or  her  "Lonnie  Bird,"  and  say, 
"Please  won't  you  just  run  over  to  Mrs. 
Dr.  this,  or  Mrs.  Judge  that,  and  rubber 
a  while?  Then,"  she  would  say, — "I'll 
know  what  to  wear  and  who  is  invited  and 
how  much  it'll  cost,  etc," 

Mrs.  Vanderhook's  sudden  acquisition 
of  unlimited  finery  and  jewels  created  un 
favorable  comment.  The  sudden  costly 
equipment  of  her  house  astonished  every 
body.  Her  lavish  display  in  entertaining 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad        109 

was  severely  criticised  by  the  best  people. 
For  in  Kankakee,  as  elsewhere,  the  best 
people  keep  tab  on  each  other's  faults,  fol 
lies  and  failures. 

The  ghost  of  this  gossip  drifted  back  to 
the  drug  store;  and  Bill,  who  was  too 
proud  of  himself  to  betray  his  wife,  chafed 
in  secret. 

For,  of  course,  the  world  knew  nothing 
of  the  great  astro-human  drama  that  was 
being  enacted  in  the  Mayor's  home. 

But  there  came  a  day  when  the  out 
raged  owner  of  the  Mansard  Eoof  cast 
aside  all  semblance  of  hospitality  toward 
his  rival  and  broke  out  into  a  fierce  and 
jealous  anger  at  his  ethereal  tormentor. 

"Begone!  you  bloodless  villain,"-— he 
roared  one  morning  when  he  had  entered 
his  dining-room  unexpectedly  and  found 
his  guest  strewing  lilies  of  the  valley 
around  the  plate  laid  for  Imogene's  break 
fast.  "Begone!  I  say.  Get  out  of  my 
sight !  Leave  my  house !  Get  out !  I  say, 
now,  at  once.  Fly !  melt !  disappear  !— 
vamoose!" 


110  Discords  of  Devolution 

But  the  platter  he  hurled  at  his  rival's 
head  went  straight  through  it,  crashing 
against  the  back  of  the  chair  on  which  sat 
the  seer,  smiling  and  unruffled. 

Imogene  snickered,  and  the  astral  man 
showered  lilacs  over  her  chair,  while  a 
handful  of  thistles  were  viciously  flung 
from  nowhere— into  the  blazing  coun 
tenance  of  the  enraged  husband. 

" Faithless  woman!  black  magician!" 
shrieked  Bill  Vanderhook;  and  gathering 
up  a  large,  bright  carving  knife,  he  sent  it 
spinning  into  the  heart  of  his  rival.  That 
is  to  say,  the  point  of  the  knife  clove  the 
back  of  Alonzo  L  effing  well 's  chair,  while 
the  handle  protruded  from  that  gentle 
man's  left  vest  pocket. 

But  the  gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee  still  sat 
in  his  chair,  erect,  tranquil,  smiling. 

Imogene  was  so  tickled  she  stuffed  a 
napkin  into  her  mouth.  She  did  not  intend 
to  betray  herself  before  the  dining  room 
girl. 

Whereupon,    the    Mayor   of    Kankakee 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad        111 

iiung  himself  out  of  his  mansion  in  a 
frenzy. 

He  did  not  come  home  to  lunch. 

At  dinner  he  did  not  exchange  a  word 
with  his  wife.  He  scowled  through  five 
courses.  Imogene  was  radiant.  And  their 
guest  who  seated  himself  at  the  table, 
[merely  to  keep  Imogene  company,] 
amused  himself  by  inciting  the  knives, 
forks  and  spoons  to  cut  unseemly  capers 
on  the  cloth. 

A  few  days  later  Bill  Vanderhook  re 
turned  from  his  office  an  hour  earlier  than 
usual.  He  came  with  the  deep,  deadly  pur 
pose  of  seeing  what  was  to  be  seen,  and 
he  saw  it. 

Gently  turning  his  latch-key,  softly 
treading  the  deserted  hall,  stealthily  cross 
ing  the  costly  Wilton  of  the  drawing-room, 
and  still  on,  still  creeping  through  and 
around  and  up  and  back,  on  through  my 
lady's  boudoir,  still  on,  to  the  draped  por 
tals  of  his  own  private  den — the  one  corner 
of  his  castle  which  thus  far  had  been  left 


112  Discords  of  Devolution 

to  its  master.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  not 
dreamed  that  even  an  astral  man  could  be 
come  wholly  lost  to  the  amenities  of  polite 
society. 

But  here  and  now  he  came  upon  the 
guilty  pair,  trespassers,  invaders  of  man's 
most  sacred  corner,  his  elysium  in  hours 
of  peace,  his  refuge  in  times  of  woe, — his 
"Den." 

Outside,  and  screened  by  the  heavy  por 
tieres,  Bill  Vanderhook  sized  up  the  situa 
tion.  He  saw  what  made  his  blood  first 
warm  and  then  to  simmer  and  boil.  It  was 
not  simply  that  they  sat  side  by  side.  This 
he  expected.  But  this — that  they  had  the 
nerve  to  sit  in  his  den;  and  more,  to  sit 
upon  his  couch ;  and  worse  still,  to  sit  upon 
that  gay  and  picturesque  Bagdad  which, 
of  all  his  possessions,  should  have  been  left 
to  him  and  him  alone. 

For  this  artistic  creation  had  been  Irno- 
gene's  gift  to  him  upon  that  fatal  anniver 
sary  wedding.  That  she  had  bought  this 
Bagdad  on  bargain  day  and  that  Bill 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad        113 

thought  she  had  made  it  herself  did  not 
alter  the  sentiment.  True,  she  bought  the 
Bagdad  to  please  herself;  and  true,  that 
he  cared  no  more  for  the  dizzy  thing  than 
he  would  for  a  door-mat ;  yet,  all  the  same. 
she  had  given  it  to  him,  and  the  giving 
was  what  he  cared  for. 

Was  it  to  be  expected  that  this  would 
ever  have  been  made  the  background  of  his 
rival's  wiles  and  fascinations? 

"This  is  too  much,  too  much.  Where 
am  I  at?" — and  Bill  Vanderhook  clenched 
his  fists  and  glared  ferociously. 

But,  hist! — what  is  it  these  two  are  do 
ing?  What  new  conspiracy  is  hatching 
against  the  master  of  the  house?  Why  do 
they  sit  so  close,  with  heads  bent  in  such 
juxtaposition?  Why  are  they  so  silent,  so 
absorbed? 

"Aha!  aha!  a  book!"  It  is  a  book  they 
are  poring  over;  a  great  leather  book.  A 
hand  of  each  is  under  it.  The  other  two 
are  slowly  turning  leaves.  Aha!  they 
search  for  something.  This  is  no  ordinary 
book.  They  search, — and  for  what? 


114  Discords  of  Devolution 

So  intent  are  these  two,  this  gay  Gnani 
and  his  giddy  Mate,  that  they  have  neither 
heard  nor  sensed  the  intrusion. 

Bill  Vanderhook  listens. 

What  he  hears  chills  his  blood, — con 
geals  it.  He  hears  the  frozen  pellets  rattle 
through  his  veins. 

"Oh,  my  Llama  Lonnie,  it  is  not  here." 

"Yes,  my  Goo-goo  Eyes,  it  is,  it  is." 

"I  don't  believe  it,  my  Llama,"  whis 
pered  Imogene. 

"But  it  must  be,  it  must  be  there  my 
lady  bird ;  for  I  happen  to  know  something 
of  the  jurisprudence  of  Illinois." 

Bill  was  struck  by  the  expression  of 
their  faces.  He  had  never  before  seen  the 
astral  man  evince  any  sort  of  anxiety  over 
anything.  He  never  .remembered  seeing 
that  look  in  Mrs.  Vanderhook 's  face,  ex 
cept  when  she  wanted  something  he 
couldn  't  buy. 

But  he  could  no  longer  restrain  himself. 
The  jealous  husband  sacrificed  his  curi 
osity  to  gratify  his  anger.  With  one  bound 


lie  cleared  the  threshold  and  landed  in  the 
middle  of  the  den,  full  under  the  light  of 
the  Turkish  lantern. 

"You  measly  monstrosity!" — he  cried 
in  a  loud  voice.  "Get  ye  back! — get  ye 
back  to  your  musty  old  lair  in  Gingalee!" 
— and  lifting  his  walking  stick  he  brought 
it  down  upon  the  despoiler  of  his  peace. 
"And  this  is  how  you  occupy  yourself  in 
my  absence!"— he  bawled.  "These  are 
the  uses  to  which  you  put  my  house  and  my 
furniture,  and  my  books !  Is  it  for  this 
that  I  run  a  drug  store  and — for  Mayor 
the  rest  of  the  time?  What  new  infernal 
scheme  are  you  hatching  now?"— and  Mr. 
Vanderhook  pounded  the  air, — instead  of 
Alonzo  Leffingwell. 

Alonzo  sat  on  the  couch.  He  leaned 
against  Mr.  Vanderhook 's  cushions. 

At  the  first  stroke  Imogene  had  leaped 
from  the  couch ;  but  the  mystic  never 
turned  a  hair,  much  less  his  head.  A 
shower  of  blows  fell  harmlessly  upon  the 
gilded  frame  of  the  costly  couch.  There 


116  Discords  of  Devolution 

were  some  gilt  chips  on  the  carpet,  some 
abrasions  on  the  walking  stick,  but — the 
gentleman  who  had  been  beaten  sat  wholly 
unmoved,  upright  and  smiling. 

When  it  was  all  over,  however,  he  rose, 
bowed  mockingly  and  silently  floated  out  of 
the  room  alongside  of  Imogene,  who  had 
regained  her  composure. 

The  deserted  man  now  seized  upon  the 
book  which  had  fallen  from  the  hands  of 
the  surprised  couple  and  lay  upon  the 
floor.  He  glanced  at  the  title  and  then— 
his  eyes  were  opened  a  little  wider.  Now 
he  saw  it  all.  Now  he  understood  the  weep- 
iness  in  their  tones  as  they  had  turned  the 
pages. 

The  gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee  and  Mrs. 
William  K.  Vanderhook  had  been  reading 
the  "Statutes  of  Illinois." 

The  section  on  Divorce  was  blurred  by 
tears. 

But  alas,  as  they  had  discovered,  even 
this  liberal  and  up-to-date  commonwealth 
does  not  recognize  the  astral.  Their  case 


The  Book  and  the  Bagdad        117 

was  therefore  without  parallel  or  prece 
dent.  These  two  had  found  in  their  par 
ticular  case  that  there  was  no  cause  for 
divorce. 

When  he  finally  took  in  the  whole  force 
of  the  incident  Bill  vibrated  with  wrath. 
He  dashed  the  book  upon  the  floor  of  his 
den.  He  tore  the  brilliant  Bagdad  from 
its  moorings  of  silken  pillows;  and  then, 
as  if  by  a  wicked  inspiration,  he  stooped, 
seized  both  book  and  drapery  and  dashed 
them  into  the  open,  glowing  grate. 

' '  So,  there ! — perish  my  love  of  woman ! 
—and — and — anathema  upon  everything 
from  anywhere  that  takes  advantage  of 
friendship  and  hospitality,  that  plays  upon 
a  woman's  vanity  and  with  the  honor  of 
an  honest  man!" 

And  the  plotters,  but  momentarily  dis 
turbed,  had  glided  down  stairs  and  sought 
another  retreat.  Their  sorrow  was  soon 
modified,  for  they  remembered  presently 
that  they  could,  in  reality,  defy  all  the  stat 
utes  of  all  the  states.  They  remembered 


118  Discords  of  Devolution 

that  they  could  not  be  separated  by  law, 
even  though  the  party  of  the  third  part 
could  not  be  eliminated  by  law. 

It  was  now  Bill  Vanderhook's  time  to 
meditate. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

THE  MAN  IN  THE  CELLAR. 

The  genial  druggist  was  a  changed  man. 

Without  a  smile  he  now  listened  when 
they  talked  of  hire  fo  Congress. 

He  performed  the  duties  of  Mayor  per 
functorily.  The  hours  at  the  office  palled 
on  him.  He  collected  the  fees  with  a  cold, 
studied  indifference.  The  Chicago  papers 
were  unread.  Whether  it  was  the  "Cubs" 
or  the  "Tigers"  made  no  impression  on 
his  preoccupation.  Life  seemed  to  have 
lost  its  zest.  Even  the  drug  store  was  con 
ducted  incidentally,  as  it  were. 

The  attention  of  William  K.  Vander- 
hook  was  elsewhere.  The  episode  of  the 
preceding  chapter  had  hardened  his  heart 
and  fixed  his  purpose. 

Tt  was  now  Bill's  turn  to  MEDITATE. 

"There  is," — he  would  mutter  to  him- 

119 


120  Discords  of  Devolution 

self  every  little  while — ' '  there  is  in  nature 
an  antidote  for  every  poison.  Though  un 
discovered,  it  still  exists.  There  is,  there 
must  be,  yes,  there  shall  be  some  force  in 
nature  to  oust  any  astral  popinjay  ever 
projected  into  space.  If  there  are  astral 
poisons  (q.e.d.),  then  there  must  be  anti 
dotes  after  their  own  kind.  There  is,  I 
know,  a  way  to  trap  every  manner  of  wild 
beast,  every  deadly  serpent  and  hurtful 
insect;  and  so  there  is,  if  I  can  get  onto 
it,  some  principle  or  process  by  which  I 
can  reduce  this  astral  Fakir  back  into  his 
original  elements.  And  s'elp  me  jimmy  - 
kayjones,  this  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee  can 
and  must  and  shall  be  swept  off  the  face  of 
the — no,  he  shall  be  eliminated  from  the 
atmosphere  he  infests. ' ' 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Vander- 
hook  was  not  only  a  skilled  pharmacist  and 
practical  chemist,  but  he  was  likewise  an 
electrician  of  great  ability. 

There  came  a  day,  a  damp,  cloudy  day, 
when  he  left  the  drug  store  early  and  hur 
riedly.  He  went  home  as  fast  as  the  auto 


The  Man  in  the  Cellar  121 

could  carry  him.  He  avoided  the  parlor. 
He  struck  for  the  cellar.  He  approached 
the  potato  bins,  empty  now,  as  if  to  meet 
his  requirements.  Presently  he  had  them 
torn  out,  and  there  was  a  large  space  for 
whatever  might  be  needed. 

The  next  day  came  masons  and  carpen 
ters  and  plumbers.  Inside  of  two  weeks 
the  druggist  had  a  laboratory  in  his  cel 
lar  of  which  no  man  had  the  key,  to  which 
no  man  had  access  save  himself. 

From  this  day  forward  every  spare  mo 
ment  was  spent  in  the  seclusion  of  this  un 
derground  apartment.  The  Mayor  let  slip 
his  official  mantle,  and  as  far  as  possible 
leaned  upon  the  city  comptroller.  He  took 
only  thought  enough  to  pocket  the  fees 
with  a  cold,  sardonic  smile.  He  gave  up 
his  club,  declined  invitations  to  progressive 
euchre;  the  fall  races,  and  the  dog  show 
he  passed  by.  The  big  ball  game  he  even 
forgot  to  attend. 

His  life  centered  in  the  cellar. 

This  was  pre-eminently  satisfactory  to 
Mrs.  V.  and  her  ethereal  shadow.     Bill's 


122  Discords  of  Devolution 

absence  furnished  opportunity  for  unend 
ing  discussions  on  the  Unity  of  Vibration, 
which  had  polarized  them  as  a  unit.  Ab 
sorbed  as  they  were  in  the  contemplation 
of  themselves,  they  failed  to  cognize  the 
exact  nature  of  Mr.  Vanderhook's  occupa 
tion  in  the  cellar. 

They  only  dreamed  on,  happy  in  the 
present,  careless  of  the  past  and  hilarious 
in  the  hope  of  soon  realizing  a  still  closer 
relation — after  they  had  satisfied  the  re 
quirements  of  the  law  as  made  and  pro 
vided  in  the  Statutes  of  Illinois. 

So  self-absorbed  were  they  that  they 
gave  no  attention  to  the  comings  and  go 
ings  of  the  master  of  the  house.  The  man 
in  the  cellar  was  practically  forgotten.  Now 
and  then,  however,  they  would  be  mo 
mentarily  diverted  by  subterranean  re 
ports  and  faint  odors  of  gases. 

"Well,  he's  got  to  get  somewhere  to 
make  himself  heard, ' '  laughed  the  ' ;  Lonnie 
Llama"  one  evening  when  Imogene 
shrieked  at  an  unusually  loud  report.  The 


The  Man  in  the  Cellar  123 

walls  shook  with  the  force  of  it,  while  the 
cruel  couple  shook  with  laughter. 

"He  don't  complain  of  being  lonesome 
any  more  does  he?"  added  the  gentleman. 

"Oh,  no,"  giggled  Imogene.  "He  says 
he  is  wrapped  up  in  Science  now." 

' '  And  so  are  we,  my  ownest ;  are  not  we 
also  wrapped  up  in  Science — the  Higher 
Science?"— and  the  Gay  Gnani  encircled 
his  Affinity  with  his  very  diaphanous  arms. 

The  Lady  laughed  gaily,  and  then  dis 
engaging  herself  she  daintily  lifted  her 
silken  dinner  gown  and,  recalling  the  last 
matinee  in  Chicago,  she  trippingly  danced, 
singing  as  only  Imogene  could  sing: 

"0,  0,  my  Hindoo  Honey,  Honey  I  love 
you. ' ' 

Such  had  come  to  be  the  atmosphere  of 
the  drawing  room. 

But  what  of  him  in  the  cellar!  What 
of  the  husband  discarded,  and  the  friend 
betrayed  I 

He  was  busy — tremendously  BUSY.    He 


124  Discords  of  Devolution 

did  not  even  close  Saturdays  at  one  o'clock. 
He  was  busy  every  daylight  hour  he  could 
steal.  He  was  busy  far  into  the  hours 
when  just  men  sleep,  and  bad  ones  go  a 
burgling. 

Over  and  again  he  might  have  been  heard 
to  say  in  terribly  tense  tones, — "He's  no 
illusion.  He's  no  spook.  He's  a  fact, — a 
cold,  scientific  fact.  He  lives  by  natural 
law  as  much  as  I  do.  Therefore  he's  con 
trolled  by  natural  laws.  He's  therefore 
susceptible  to  chemical  changes  by  the 
proper  application  of  those  laws.  If  so, 
he's  subject  to  these  changes  whenever 
and  wherever  scientific  processes  are 
brought  to  bear  against  him.  Since  an 
astral  man  is  a — Something, — why,  some 
thing  can  get  at  him.  Something,  some 
where  in  nature's  laboratory,  must  have 
the  potency  to  seize  him,  to  paralyze  him. ' ' 

And  Bill  would  continue  his  monologue, 
—"Though  neither  brickbat  nor  billiard 
cue  is  efficacious  in  the  matter  of  astral 
substance,  it  doesn't  follow  that  the  proper 
projectile  may  not  be  found  and  success- 


The  Alan  in  the  Cellar  125 

fully  administered.  Now,"  he  would  rea 
son,  "an  astral  body,  like  a  physical  one, 
must  have  certain  natural,  specific  modes 
of  growth,  development,  rejuvenation,  re 
sistance,  persistence,  disintegration,  and 
dissolution;  and  I, — ha,  ha, — I  shall  find 
this  secret.  Nature  must  and  shall  dis 
close  its  secret  of  the  reduction  of  the  as 
tral  to  its  original  essence." 

Then  the  Honorable  William  K.  would 
laugh  a  high,  weird  laugh  that  echoed  in 
hollow  cadences  among  the  jars  and  bottles 
of  his  laboratory. 

Then,  perchance,  for  the  moment  elate, 
he  would  whistle  a  few  bars  of  "I'm  a 
lookin'  for  dat  niggah  an'  he  mus'  be 
foun'." 

And  the  awful  merriment  of  the  Mayor 
was  more  suggestive  than  his  unpleasant 
language. 

Over  the  great  iatro-chemist,  Paracelsus, 
the  old  German  chemists,  and  over  the  dis 
coveries  and  formulas  of  Basil  Valentine, 
the  druggist  of  Kankakee  continually 
pored.  Deep  into  the  mysteries  of  chem- 


126  Discords  of  Devolution 

ical  philosophy  he  delved.  Not  to  his  wife, 
but  to  Tyndall,  Maxwell  and  Daniel  he 
turned  for  society;  not,  however,  until  he 
had  absorbed  the  "Genesis  of  the  Ele 
ments,  ' '  by  Crooks,  did  he  show  the  excite 
ment  and  enthusiasm  of  the  man  who  gets 
what  he  goes  after. 

There  came  a  day,  or  rather  an  evening, 
when  the  discarded  husband  rose  up  and 
called  himself  a  "  Cracker- Jack. "  He  shook 
himself  with  the  abandon  of  one  who  finds 
Jiimself  master  of  a  situation. 

For  days  after  this  Bill  Vanderhook  was 
singularly  jocular.  He  was  polite  to  Imo- 
gene.  He  even  indulged  himself  in  a  bit  of 
joshing  with  the  Mystic. 

"Good-bye,  Mrs.  V.  S'long,  Leff,"- 
said  the  Mayor  one  morning  as  he 
appeared  equipped  for  traveling. 

"Going  east  for  stock,"  —he  said  briefly, 
when  languidly  interrogated  by  Imogene 
as  to  the  whys  and  whences  of  this  sudden 
trip.  * '  You  and  Leff  can  run  things  a  few 
days  without  me," — he  said  satirically. 


The  Man  in  the  Cellar  127 

"I  should  remark, " —responded  Imo- 
gene  in  her  own  pretty  way. 

There  was  a  peculiar  grin  on  Mr.  Van- 
derhook's  face  as  he  put  on  his  hat.  He 
commended  his  wife  to  the  care  of  the 
Mystic  with  these  portentous  words,— 
"Enjoy  yourself  while  you  can,  for  none 
of  us  knows  what  may  happen  next." 

In  a  fortnight  he  had  returned,  was 
again  in  the  cellar  busier  than  ever.  Pres 
ently  there  came  by  express  a  fresh  con 
signment  for  the  laboratory.  A  heavily 
wrapped  and  curiously  crated  package,  not 
larger  than  a  small  tub,  which  required 
several  men  to  convey  it  from  the  wagon 
to  the  underground  workshop. 

And  the  guilty  pair  asked  no  questions. 
Chemical  experiments,  as  such,  had  no  in 
terest  for  them. 

"Bet  you  it's  a  music  box," — said  Irno- 
gene,  who  had  noted  its  arrival  from  the 
parlor  window. 

"Or  a  picture  machine,** — suggested 
Lonnie,  without  taking  the  trouble  to  re 
move  his  eyes  from  the  face  of  the  "lady- 


128  Discords  of  Devolution 

bird. "  "  And  do  you  know, ' '  he  continued 
listlessly,  "that  these  ordinary  humans 
are  doing  some  very  clever  work  nowa 
days?" 

Mr.  Vanderhook  vouchsafed  no  explana 
tion.  Next  day  an  extra  lock  was  put  on 
his  laboratory  door. 

Days  rolled  on,  making  up  the  weeks. 
The  weeks  expanded  into  months.  The 
months  rounded  up  a  year,  and  yet  there 
was  no  change  in  the  Vanderhook  home. 
No  change,  merely  an  accentuation  of  the 
old  condition.  No  change,  merely  a  closer 
absorption  of  the  lady  and  her  Llama.  Only 
an  increased  activity  on  the  part  of  the 
man  in  the  cellar. 

Mrs.  and  Mr.  V.  seldom  met,  except  at 
meals.  From  these  their  guest  usually  ab 
sented  himself.  Having  neither  the  need 
nor  the  desire  for  food,  it  wearied  him  to 
observe  the  processes  involved.  To  see  his 
idol  feeding  grated  upon  his  super-refined 
senses.  This  process  of  reinforcing  the 
fires  of  physical  life  is  not  attractive  to 
astral  vision.  Even  a  lady  looks  rather 


The  Man  in  the  Cellar  129 

like  an  animated  hopper  than  an  Intelli 
gent  Being. 

Between  meals,  however,  the  Llama  and 
the  Lady-Bird  lost  no  time. 

Nor  Bill. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

DRAWING  A  CORK. 

"My  ownest,  I  must  to  Hindustan." 

This  announcement  came  unexpectedly, 
hurriedly,  one  evening  just  before  tea.  The 
Mystic  was  evidently  excited.  .Mrs.  Van- 
derhook  was  startled.  She  said, — "Great 
Scott" — in  tones  of  alarmed  surprise. 

"Be  not  alarmed,  sweetest  of  mortals. 
It  is  nothing  very  dangerous.  Nothing, 
only  a  very  disagreeable  trip.  My  body 
has  been  left  unguarded.  There  are  some 
very  large  and  unpleasant  tigers  in  the 
vicinity,  and  should  they  strike  the  scent, 
you  know, — I  must  return  and  get  into  my 
body  and  have  some  one  kill  the  beasts. 
Then  I  will  take  some  material  refresh 
ment,  relocate  my  body  more  securely  and 
back  again  to  my  Goo-Goo  Eyes." 

"But  why  should  you  bother  about  that 

130 


Drawing  a  Cork  131 

old  body?"  pouted  the  lady.    ''Ain't  you 
all  right  as  you  are!" 

The  mystic  laughed.  It  was  a  soundless 
convulsion  of  mirth. 

"Why,  my  kitten,  don't  you  see  that 
even  though  we  love,  we  are  not  upon  the 
same — same — plane?  That  is  to  say, 
you're  in  the  physical  body,  and  I'm  out  of 
mine." 

"Well,  but  what  difference?" — she  be 
gan. 

"All  the  difference  possible,  in  this  par 
ticular  world,  my  queen.  Now  don't  you 
see  my  little  scheme?  When  you  succeed 
in  this  divorce  business  I  mean  to  resume 
my  physical  body,  feed  it  up,  cut  its  hair, 
and  get  it  some  good  clothes,  and  then- 
why,  then, — I  intend  to  bring  it  back  here 
in  the  regular  way, — and  then — we'll  be 
regularly  married." 

It  was  now  the  lady  who  laughed. 

"Well,  if  you  ain't  too  cute  for  any 
thing." 

They  had  previously  consulted  a  Chicago 
lawyer  who  assured  them,  statutes  to  the 


132  Discords  of  Devolution 

contrary,  he  not  only  would  work  the  de 
cree,  but  would  secure  alimony  in  addition. 
He  said  he  would  base  the  suit  upon  cruelty 
and  desertion  and  abandonment  without 
"visible  or  tangible  cause." 

This  delighted  the  Gnani,  for  though 
himself  self-supporting,  the  lady  would  re 
quire  physical  sustenance  for  some  time. 

"And  you'll  hurry  back,  Lonnie  Lla 
ma?"  pleaded  Imogene. 

"But  twenty-four  hours  at  most,  Sweet 
Thing,  only  tonight  and  tomorrow,  and 
tomorrow  I'll  telep  every  sixteen  minutes 
from  sunrise  to  sunset." 

' '  Well,  if  you  must — you  must, ' ' — sighed 
Imogene.  "I  wish  you  didn't  have  to  stay 
but  a  couple  of  minutes." 

"Well,  it's  good-bye  sweetest, — until— 
until — "  and  the  mystic  sighed  dismally; 
"until  sunset  tomorrow." 

"No,  no,  I  can't  have  it  so.  Linger- 
longer — Lonnie  Llama.  I  'm  all  broke  up, ' ' 
and  Imogene  wept. 

"I  say,  what's  the  rush?" 

The  lovers,  startled,  sprang  to  the  ex- 


Drawing  a  Cork  133 

treme  ends  of  the  divan.  It  was  the  un 
happy  Bill  Vanderhook  who  stood  before 
them. 

Unhappy?  No.  Surely  this  was  not  the 
face  of  an  unhappy  man,  nor  of  a  vengeful 
one.  He  did  not  even  appear  to  be  out  of 
humor.  His  face  was  illumined  with  a 
benevolent  smile.  His  hat  was  shoved  well 
back  on  his  head  and  his  hands  were  in  his 
pockets,  after  the  manner  of  extreme  jovi 
ality. 

He  had  entered  unobserved  and  now 
stood  surveying  them  with  the  most  genial 
and  conciliatory  smile. 

"What's  this  about  leaving  us?"  he  de 
manded  of  his  old  chum  in  the  old  friendly 
tone. 

Unprepared  for  such  treatment,  the  seer 
sheepishly  explained  the  unpleasant  pre 
dicament  of  his  physical  envelope  in  the 
caves  of  Gingalee. 

"Well,  do  you  mean  to  stay  there  then?" 
—anxiously,  almost  hopefully,  from  Bill. 

"T  should  say  not.  I'll  be  back  by  tea 
time  tomorrow  sure.  You  know,  Mrs.  Van- 


134  Discords  of  Devolution 

derhook  expects  me  to  look  after  the  deco 
rations  of  her  April-Fool  tea  party.  That's 
tomorrow,  you  know,  so — " 

Bill's  brows  contracted  wickedly  for  an 
instant.  Then  he  laughed. 

"Then  why  in  Sam  Hill  are  you  going 
at  all  ? "  demanded  Bill ;  which  entailed  an 
other  recital  of  the  danger. 

"But  what  if  the  beasts  do  eat  up  your 
old  hide!  It  won't  hurt  'em  even  if  it  is  a 
tough  proposition.  And  you  don't  need 
your  cuticle  and  cartilage  any  more,  as  I 
can  see — and  besides,  I  want  you  home  to 
day  specially.  I  want  you  home  tonight 
anyway,  for,  Leff  and  Genesy,  too" — and 
Bill 's  voice  dropped, — * '  suppose  we  let  by 
gones  be  bygones.  I've  been  a  Tom-Fool 
to  monkey  with  the  irrevocable.  I  con 
cede  the  superiority  of  the  astral.  I  ac 
knowledge  your  primordial  claim  upon 
each  other.  But  I'm  tired  of  these  strained 
relations  in  the  house.  Let's  have  peace 
and  a  good  time.  And  now  that  I'm  find 
ing  consolation  in  Science,  why  not  let's 
call  off  the  fight?  Let's  have  a  cessation 


Drawing  a  Cork  135 

of  hostilities  and  a  renewal  of  confi 
dences." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  Alonzo  Lef- 
fmgwell,  which  appeared  more  cordial  than 
the  fact  really  warranted.  For  in  his  state 
of  being,  "heart"  was  a  very  empty  space. 
"I'm  reconciled,"  he  continued  languidly. 

"Me,  too,"  sighed  Imogene,  suspiciously 
and  reluctantly. 

' '  Shake, ' '  said  Bill  in  a  loud,  glad  voice, 
laying  one  hand  over  his  wife's  and  shak 
ing  the  other  cordially  through  the  wrist 
of  the  astral  gentleman. 

"I  say,  let's  celebrate.  I'm  dead  tired 
of  this  lonesomeness  down  in  the  coal  bins 
—and — now,  the  fact  is,  Genesy" — and 
Bill  went  on  gaily, — "I've  anticipated  our 
reconciliation  and  I  want  you  both  to  come 
down  to  my  workshop.  I've  got  a  nice  lit 
tle  layout  for  you  in  the  laboratory.  Of 
course,  I  know  Leff  isn't  much  on  vittles 
—but  I  do  know  Genesy  likes  the  pop  of 
a  cork.  Don't  you,  old  girl?" 

"You  better  believe,"  assented  Imogene. 


136  Discords  of  Devolution 

"And  did  you  really  get  some  Extra  Dry? 
I » 

"Well,  you  just  come  and  see  what  I've 
got  for  you.  As  the  French  say,  this  is  an 
ock-kazh-un.  We'll  just  pop  a  few  corks. 
Let's  agree  to  swallow  the  past  in  a  couple 
of  pints  of  Mumm's  best,  and — come  along 
or  the  ice  will  melt."  And  he  half  pulled 
and  half  pushed  Mrs.  Vanderhook  toward 
the  inside  cellar-way. 

The  Mystic  followed  slowly,  haltingly, 
and  then  hurried  on  to  Imogene's  side. 

"I  have  a  presentiment"-— he  murmured. 

"Of  what,  Lonnie  Llama?"  tenderly. 

"Alas,  I  know  not  what;  but  I  am  sel 
dom  left  on  these  impressions.  Let's  not 
go  into  the  cellar." 

"Why,  what  can  he  do  to  an  astral  man! 
He  couldn't  hurt  you  if  he  tried." 

In  her  eagerness  Imogene  spoke  loud 
enough  for  her  husband  to  hear. 

Bill  Vanderhook  appeared  to  be  smoking 
a  cigar.  In  reality  he  was  gnashing  his 
teeth.  Alonzo  said  no  more,  but  laid  his 


Draivhig  a  Cork  137 

hand  apprehensively  over  the  region  for 
merly  occupied  by  a  heart. 

They  were  now  in  the  cellar,  and  in  an 
other  moment  the  trio  had  passed  through 
the  laundry — past  the  fruit  closets  and  the 
coal  bins,  and  were  now  ushered  into  the 
partitioned  corner  which  had  been  con 
verted  into  a  library  and  laboratory.  They 
entered  the  library,  which  was  comfortably 
furnished,  brilliantly  lighted,  well  ven 
tilated  and  altogether  a  Cosy  Corner  for— 
a  studious  man. 

Book-shelves  encircled  the  walls,  and 
many  and  musty  were  the  ancient  volumes 
which  jostled  the  modern  authorities  there 
on.  The  further  room,  connecting  the 
laboratory,  was  now  in  total  darkness.  But 
through  the  black  open  doorway  came  a 
soft  musical  burr-r-r-r-ing,  whirr-r-r-r-r- 
ing.  Now  and  then  little  sparkles  of  light 
crossed  the  black  aperture. 

Bill  beamed  upon  his  guests.  He  tilted 
Ins  hat  back  a  bit  further,  then  he  took  off 
his  coat,  his  cuffs.  He  began  to  look  like 
Business. 


138  Discords  of  Devolution 

Out  of  the  big,  wooden  pail  lie  lifted  a 
long,  slim,  dark  bottle.  From  his  pocket 
he  drew  forth  a  corkscrew.  The  bottle  he 
set  on  the  table.  The  corkscrew  he  laid 
beside  the  bottle.  Then  he  ranged  three- 
wide-mouthed,  slim-necked  glasses  side  by 
side. 

"And  here's  to  us — later,"-— he  lightly 
remarked. 

But  to  such  as  Alonzo  Leffingwell  "Ex 
tra  Dry"  does  not  appeal.  The  Seer  viewed 
the  spread  with  something  like  scorn.  Then 
he  turned  his  attention  to  the  connecting 
door.  He  riveted  his  gaze  upon  the  open 
doorway  of  the  darkened  inner  chamber. 

"I  feel  strangely  drawn  to  that  room," 
he  murmured  to  Imogene. 

"Well,  I  don't,"  she  answered  with  em 
phasis.  Let's  go  straight  back — after  the 
Mumm. ' ' 

"Well,  I  should  say— NIT"— and  Bill 
playfully  pushed  her  toward  the  room 
where  the  little  sparkles  flew  across  the 
blackness.  Come  along  Leff,  we're  now 
ready  to  draw  the  first  cork. ' '  And  reach- 


Drawing  a  Cork  139 

ing  up,  Bill  Vanderhook  pressed  a  button 
in  the  door-jamb. 

On  the  instant,  in  a  flash,  quicker  than 
thought,  without  one  word  of  apology  or 
glance  of  farewell,  the  Illuminat  of  Illinois 
shot  from  the  side  of  his  Soul  Mate, 
straight  into  that  yawning  doorway  and 
was  swallowed  up  in  a  sudden,  blinding 
glare  of  light. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  PEIVATE  EXHIBIT. 

"Oh,  Bill!  Bill!  Bill!  What  have  you 
done?"— and  a  woman's  wild  scream  rent 
the  atmosphere. 

And  no  wonder  our  heroine,  standing 
there  in  the  doorway,  was  upset.  No  won 
der  she  clutched  at  her  pompadour  in 
frenzy.  No  wonder  she  shook  like  several 
leaves.  The  suddenness  of  her  admirer's 
departure  was  so  very — in  fact — sudden. 

After  she  had  shrieked  she  leaned 
against  the  door- jamb,  gazing  incoherently 
at  that  which  she  saw. 

It  was  now  Bill's  turn  to  laugh,  and  this 
he  did,  long,  loud  and  uproariously.  Then 
he  shouted  in  a  triumphant  crescendo,— 
"Hi,  there,  my  lady — catch  onto  the  dis 
play.  And  well  you  may  squeal  at  the  sight 
of  your  old  familiar  pig- wheel.  Dollars  to 

140 


A  Private  Exhibit  141 

doughnuts  you  never  shackled  as  slim  a 
one  as  this  at  the  yard.  Say,  watch  him. 
He's  in  the  swim  sure,  ain't  he!  See  him 
swing — round  toward  the  sticker.  That's 
me.  D'ye  hear,  madam?  I'm  the  sticker 
in  this  yard.  And  he's  coming  to  the  knife 
in  fine  style.  Now  watch  me  close,  for  he's 
going  to  land  against  the  point  this  time, 
and  then — Aha  I  ha !  ha ! — and  then — the 
last  hot  water  plunge,  and— 

"Monster!  monster!"  sobbed  the  lady. 

Bill  laughed  again. 

"Oh,  my  Lonnie,  my  Llama!"  wailed 
Mrs.  V. 

And  again  Bill  Vanderhook  laughed. 

"Aha! — your  Astral  Mate  got  a  move 
on  him  that  time.  Go  ask  him  if  he  has 
any  fresh  data  on  affinities.  Ask  him  how 
he  likes  this  newest  attraction." 

"Brute!" — and,  dashing  past  her  hus 
band,  the  distracted  lady  rushed  to  the 
rescue  of  her  primordial  mate.  She  flung 
herself  wildly  into  the  workshop  from 
which  she  had  been  so  long  excluded. 

The  picture  presented  to  her  gaze  as  she 


142  Discords  of  Devolution 

crossed  the  threshold  struck  terror  to  her 
soul.  All  at  once  Mrs.  Vanderhook  felt 
weak  as  boiled  water.  She  clasped  her 
hands  in  frantic  protest. 

"Get  onto  his  curves"  bawled  Bill. 
"What  d'ye  think  of  your  Lonnie  Bird 
now?  He's  off  his  perch,  ain't  he?  Never 
miss  a  Mystic  when  he  moults.  And  here's 
your  Lonnie  Lammie — at  shearing  time. 
Here's  your  little  piggy-wiggy  on  a  hook. 
Here's  your-r-r-r" — and  the  angry  hus 
band  wound  himself  up  in  a  knot  of  words 
and  spluttered  off  into  monosyllabic  rav 
ings. 

Angry  and  frightened  and  bewildered 
by  the  very  unusual  scene,  Mrs.  Vander 
hook  staggered,  moaned  a  couple  of  times, 
and  crumpled  up  over  against  a  big  empty 
packing  case. 

It  would  have  been  a  braver  woman  who 
could  look  unmoved  upon  the  revenge  of 
the  Kankakee  druggist. 

In  the  center  of  a  long,  narrow  room 
strewn  with  jugs,  jars,  bottles  and  chem 
ical  apparatus,  whirled  a  small  and  curious 


A  Private  Exhibit  143 

cylinder,  a  little  black  machine  that  gave 
off  a  trail  of  glittering  sparks  upon  the 
brilliant  atmosphere,  a  tiny  monster  that 
sang  and  purred  and  whizzed  in  its  dizzy 
revolutions. 

It  was  not,  however,  this  curious  ma 
chine  that  attracted  the  attention  of  Mrs. 
Vanderhook.  It  was  neither  the  bright 
ness,  nor  energy,  nor  speed,  nor  the  whiz- 
ziness  of  the  things  in  the  room  that  spell 
bound  her.  It  was  the  novel  attachment  of 
that  satanic  cylinder  which  riveted  her 
gaze  and  temporarily  paralyzed  her  vocal 
organs. 

The  ethereal  despoiler  of  the  Vander 
hook  home  had,  indeed,  gotten  a  move  on 
himself.  He  was  "in  the  air,"  and  no 
mistake. 

At  a  distance  of  perhaps  ten  feet  from 
the  revolving  cylinder  swung  the  gay 
Gnani  of  Gingalee.  He  was  suspended  in 
the  air  without  visible  sign  of  support,  and 
was  following  the  rotary  motion  of  the  ma 
chine  ;  which  meant  that  he  was  appearing 
and  disappearing  through  the  floor  and 


144  Discords  of  Devolution 

ceiling  of  the  room  with  a  rate  of  motion 
akin  to  that  Bill  Vanderhook  was  giving 
the  machine.  Even  the  woman,  though 
unfamiliar  with  theories  of  electro-dynam 
ics,  realized  at  once  that  this  whirling  cyl 
inder  possessed  electro-magnetic  attrac 
tion  for  astral  substance. 

All  at  once  she  realized  that  the  Mystic 
had  been  captured  by  the  Mayor ;  that  the 
wise  man  was  in  the  toils  of  the  druggist. 

Alas,  and  alas,  the  mystical  lover  was  in 
the  clutches  of  the  scientific  husband. 

"You  nasty  thing!"  sobbed  Mrs.  Van 
derhook  wildly.  And  as  the  awfulness  of 
the  situation  grew  upon  her,  love  lent  her 
courage.  She  darted  past  her  husband's 
outstretched  hand  and  flung  herself  for 
ward  to  the  rescue  of  her  Mate. 

Mr.  Vanderhook,  however,  was  a  true 
scientist.  He  was  given  to  detail.  He  had 
provided  for  just  that  emergency.  A  fine 
wire,  strung  several  feet  from  the  floor 
immediately  over  a  circular  copper  track 
which  was  laid  in  the  floor  and  around  the 
cylinder,  was  to  serve  a  very  practical 


A  Private  Exhibit  145 

purpose.  The  impulsive  creature  who 
would  have  plucked  her  "Lonnie  Bird" 
from  his  unpleasant  predicament,  was  in 
stead,  flung  violently  backward  into  her 
husband's  arms. 

"Soul  communion  temporarily  sus 
pended,  you  will  observe,"  grinned  the 
master  of  ceremonies  as  he  seated  his  wife 
upon  the  packing  case.  *  *  His  hunkey  high 
ness  from  Hindustan  is  now  taking  a  whirl 
at  physical  science.  He'll  be  able  now  to 
prove,  as  I  have  said,  that  all  matter  isn't 
illusion.  Ah,  there,  Lonnie  Lammie,  how's 
this  from  an  astral  point  of  view?" 

"Extremely  unpleasant,"  admitted  that 
gentleman,  trying  to  smile.  "But  I  say, 
Bill,  explain  this  cruel  joke.  I  don't  un 
derstand  why  you  should  do  this.  I'm  aw 
fully  anxious  to  know  how  you — that  is— 
one  not  illuminated  could — thus — thus— 

"Get  the  drop  on  you?"  queried  Bill 
pleasantly.  "Glad  you  asked.  Dee-lighted 
to  explain.  You'll  appreciate  the  impor 
tance  of  the  discovery.  It's  a  great  addi 
tion  to  scientific  knowledge" — and  the  ex- 


146  Discords  of  Devolution 

perimenter  warmed  to  scientific  enthusi 
asm,  lessened  the  current  which  was  driv 
ing  its  prisoner  relentlessly  through  floor 
and  ceiling. 

"I  shall  undoubtedly  appreciate  this 
particular  process" — and  Mr.  Leffingwell 
appeared  to  be  catching  his  breath,  as  he 
felt  himself  released  from  the  terrific  force 
generated  from  somewhere.  "But  pray 
go  on.  I'm  deeply  interested." 

"Very  good,"  responded  Bill,  holding 
his  rival  suspended  that  he  might  converse 
with  him.  "You  are,  of  course,  aware 
that,  as  an  astral  being,  you've  had  enor 
mous  advantages  over  the  man  encased 
in  the  physical. ' ' 

"True,  and  yet,  you — " 

"Pardon  me,"  interrupted  the  drug 
gist  dryly  when  the  Mystic  would  have 
chipped  in.  "This  advantage  you've  used 
remorselessly,  to  break  up  my  home.  You 
broke  the  spirit,  if  not  the  letter,  of  occult 
law.  You  know  you  did.  You  ignored  our 
agreement  made  before  you  left  Kankakee. 
You  knew  and  you  acknowledged  my  claim 


A  Private  Exhibit  147 

upon  Mrs.  V.,  for  at  least  this  present  dis 
pensation.  I  told  you  then  that  I  was  per 
fectly  willing  to  take  a  back  seat  in  a  cen 
tury  or  so.  Apparently  this  didn't  satisfy 
you.  You  took  advantage  of  your  superior 
learning  to  sneak  into  my  house  like  a* 
thief.  Oh,  yes,  of  course,  you  came  astrally. 
Of  course  you  didn't  use  skeleton  keys. 
But, — you  got  there  just  the  same,  and  you 
got  in  your  work." 

"But,— but,—  '  pleaded  the  man  from 
Gingalee — "I  never  agreed  not  to  seek  her 
enlightenment,  at  such  times  and  places  as 
might  be  convenient.  I  merely  returned 
here  to  instruct  her  in  the  Fifty-Seven- 
Fold-Path,  and  to  discourse  to  her  upon 
those  several  and  sundry  sheaths  which 
do  clothe  her  higher  principles.  And — " 

"Oh,  Bosh!"  growled  Bill.  "All  that 
sounds  very  fine,  in  your  measly  old  San 
scrit  ;  but  you  stole  her  just  the  same,  and 
that's  plain  United  States.  And  now,  Mr. 
Mystic," — and  the  angry  husband  shut  his 
teeth  with  a  savage  click — "you  must  know 
that  outraged  confidence  will  seek  revenge. 


148  Discords  of  Devolution 

That's  your  karma,  ain't  it,  Mr.  Alonzo 
Leffingwell,  Gnani  of  Gingalee,  and  Grand 
High  Muckymuck  of  the  Order  of  No 
where?  I've  got  you,  and  I've  got  you  in 
your  own  trap.  You're  hoist  by  your  own 
petard.  You  went  in  for  Science,  and  so 
did  I.  Science  is  going  to  settle  this  dis 
pute,  and  you're  about  to  learn  that  na 
ture  has  several  laws.  Oh,  pusillanimous 
pirate  of  the  air,  you  are  about  to  realize 
that  invention  is  the  hand-maid  of  justice, 
and  that  science  is — the — mother-in-law— 
of — doom." 

"How, — what, — Bill, — I  do  not  compre 
hend,"  murmured  Mr.  Leffingwell  perplex 
edly,  as  he  disappeared  slowly  through  the 
ceiling  in  response  to  the  faint  current 
with  which  Bill  was  now  holding  him. 

"No?" — queried  Bill  sarcastically  as 
the  gentleman  reappeared.  "Then  there 
are,  after  all,  some  few  things  you  don't 
comprehend.  Well,  then—  "  and  the  drug 
gist  drew  himself  up  with,  calm  ferocity— 
"I  will  enlighten  you.  Hear  then  my  pro- 
nunciamento.  You've  been  weighed  in  the 


A  Private  Exhibit  149 

balance  and  found  wanting — everything 
that  didn't  rightfully  belong  to  you;  and 
because  of  that  I,  your  self-appointed 
judge  and  executioner,  have  resolved— 
upon — your — complete — annihilation. ' ' 

' '  A-n-n-i-h-i-1-a-t-i-o-n- ! ' ' 

' '  A-n-n-i-h-i-1-a-t-i-o-n- ! ' ' 

The  mournful  tenor  of  the  Mystic  min 
gled  with  the  high  C  of  his  primordial 
Mate. 

"Yes,  just  that" — burst  forth  the  drug 
gist  savagely.  "When  I  discovered  that 
you  were  not  only  dead  to  the  proprieties 
and  deaf  to  appeals,  but  that  you  were  im 
pervious  to  boot-jacks  and  bullets,  I  set  to 
thinking  as  to  the  best  manner  of  dealing 
with  the  situation.  When  I  saw  you  chipper 
as  a  lark  when  impaled  on  a  carving  knife, 
I  realized  the  insufficiency  of  brute  force. 
It  was  then  that  I  turned  to  science  and 
planned  for  this  my  long  sought  and  well 
earned  R-E-V-E-N-G-E. " 

This  last  word  came  out  in  a  long  hissing 
whisper,  the  which  is  so  effective  upon  the 
stage. 


150  Discords  of  Devolution 

The  Seer  was  now  staring  at  the  drug 
gist  in  open  faced  dismay.  Imogene  was 
whimpering  softly. 

"To  this  end,"  continued  Mr.  Vander- 
hook,  "I  practically  gave  up  my  business. 
I  constructed  this  laboratory.  I  gave  up 
Mrs.  V.'s  society.  I  permitted  you  to  en 
tertain  her  while  I  buried  myself  to  work 
out  my  revenge.  During  the  past  five 
months  I've  acquainted  myself  with  all  the 
great  authorities  on  chemistry,  electricity, 
alchemy,  astrology,  theosophy,  and  occult 
ism  generally.  I've  studied  Darwin  and 
Haeckel  and  Huxley  and  Tyndall.  I've 
familiarized  myself  with  all  of  the  facts  of 
all  of  the  sciences.  I've  saturated  myself 
with  the  theories  of  all  the  philosophers, 
prophets  and  cranks.  I've  studied  the 
body  from  monkey  to  man.  I've  chased 
the  elusive  soul  down  through  the  unintel 
ligible  symbolism  of  Buddha,  on  down  to 
the  ultimate  atom  of  Huxley — and  I've 
made  a  Great  Discovery.  Your  school  of 
mysticism's  a  fake.  I've  smashed  your 
occultism  to  smithereens,  and  I  can  bear 


A  Private  Exhibit  151 

witness  to  the  wisdom  of  that  eminent  ma 
terialist  who  said, — 'I  have  tried  the  soul 
in  the  crucible  and  found  it  Protoplasm. ' 

"You — you — deny  the  soul?"  broke  out 
the  Mystic  in  astonishment. 

"Quite  the  contrary,"  said  Mr.  Vander- 
hook.  "I'm  convinced  that  there  is  a  soul, 
or  more  scientifically  speaking,  an  astral 
man.  But  this  astral  man  is  nothing  but 
a  duplicate  of  the  physical  man,  consisting 
of  highly  attenuated  substance.  This  soul 
man,  or  astral  man,  under  certain  condi 
tions,  can  separate  himself  from  the 
coarser  body  and  cut  up  just  such  didos  as 
you  have.  But ' '  —and  Bill 's  voice  assumed 
the  patronizing  intonation  of  the  peda 
gogue — "now  the  fact  is,  confidentially, 
this  astral  man  is  nothing  but  a  mere  em 
anation  of  the  physical,  and  is  governed— 
that  is,  ultimately — by  the  same  physical 
laws.  Now,  for  instance,  you  talk  of  a  soul, 
and  a  spirit,  because  you  don't  know  any 
better.  In  reality  these  phenomena  of  the 
astral  plane  are  only  material  phenomena 
of  a  higher  grade  or  quality  than  we  can 


152  Discords  of  Devolution 

ordinarily  get  at  through  our  physical 
senses.  But,  and  again," — and  Bill  Van- 
derhook  sniffed  disdainfully — "you're  no 
more  immortal  (because  you  can't  be  seen 
by  everybody)  than  a  wiggle-tail  is.  Now 
we  can't  see  nor  feel  the  millions  of  baby 
tadpoles  nor  wigglers  in  water.  But  that 
ain't  saying  they're  spirits,  nor  that  they 
have  immortal  souls.  Now,  Mr.  Mystic,  a 
soul  or  an  astral  man  is  just  as  natural  as 
flesh  and  bone.  He  is  in  no  sense  inde 
pendent  of  the  finer  physical  forces,  and 
he  is  subject  to  natural  law  just  as  much 
as  if  he  were  going  around  wearing  his 
body." 

"You  have  certainly  studied  to  some 
purpose,"  admitted  Mr.  Leffingwell. 

"More  than  this,"  continued  the  mate 
rialist  enthusiastically,  "I  have  studied 
and  completely  mastered  this  principle  of 
soul  mating." 

The  Mystic  started — but  he  did  not  get 
very  far. 

Mrs.  Vanderhook  looked  up  eagerly, 
hopefully. 


A  Private  Exhibit  153 

"Yes,  I  admit,"  continued  Bill  genially, 
"that  I  find  your  old  Oriental  fakirs  were 
mainly  right.  I,  however,  have  been  able  to 
prove  that  your  soul  affinity  is  just  plain 
chemical  affinity — just  plain  chemical  affin 
ity  without  any  frills.  It's  an  affinity  that 
depends  upon  whether  you're  made  up  of 
the  kind  of  chemical  substances  that  nat 
urally  combine.  F'r  instance, — I  can  take 
any  two  people  and  feed  'em  both  on  pie  or 
pig  or  potatoes,  and  produce  the  same  kind 
of  affinity  you  talk  about." 

Alonzo  Leffingwell  shuddered.  Mrs.  V. 
looked  at  him  questioningly.  Bill's  unex 
pected  wisdom  was  making  an  impression 
upon  his  wife. 

"Fact,"  continued  Bill,  delighted  with 
the  impression  he  was  making — "now  I 
don't  deny"— turning  to  Alonzo  exclusive 
ly — "that  by  a  proper  course  of  diet  and 
an  ultimate  arrangement  of  particles,  my 
wife  might  coordinate  with  you;  but  I  do 
say,  and  you  hear  me,  that  she  has  been, 
and  is,  and  is  likely  to  remain,  much  nearer 
to  me  than  to  you.  Chemically  speaking  she 


154  Discords  of  Devolution 

has  not  attained  to  you.  She  quite  lacks 
the  refinement,  attenuation  and  imponder 
ability  you  have  achieved.  In  short,  she 
is  not  yet  quite  as  swift  as  you  are,  and 
therefore  much  better  suited  to  my  condi 
tion  than  to  yours." 

Continued  Bill — "When  once  I  had  es 
tablished  the  'Immortal  Soul'  of  the  oc 
cultist  and  the  'Atomic  Energy'  of  Science 
as  identical,  I  had  a  reasonable  basis,  a 
sound  hypothesis  upon  which  to  proceed. 
You,  Mr.  Gnani,  representing  this  'Soul' 
became  the  material  for  a  rare  experiment. 
And  you  are  now,  at  this  hour,  as  it  were, 
my  working  capital." 

"And  now,  having  satisfied  yourself  that 
certain  scientific  methods  may  be  applied 
to  certain  astral  phenomena,  what  more 
would  you  have  ?" —ventured  Mr.  Leffmg- 
well  nervously.  "Now  that  you  have  made 
your  point,  I  implore  you,  Bill,  to  let  me 
out  of  this." 

The  Honorable  William  K.  Vanderhook 
(with  his  hand  still  on  the  lever)  cocked 
his  head  to  one  side.  He  gave  the  Mystic 


A  Private  Exhibit  155 

one  long  look  out  of  one  eye.  The  other 
one  he  closed. 

"As  you  must  know,"  he  continued  se 
renely,  "primordial  matter,  which  is  astral 
matter,  results  from  a  condensation  of 
ether  substance  into  helium,  or  biogen.  It 
is  of  this  attenuated,  gaseous  matter  that 
you  are  composed.  This  being  true,  it  is 
easily  possible  to  convert  or  reduce  you 
back  into  a  semi-material  state  of  hydro 
gen.  Catch  on?" 

"I  do,"  admitted  the  Seer  sorrowfully 
as  he  passed  slowly  downward  still  sway 
ing  along  the  circle  of  attraction.  "But 
now"  —he  implored — "as  you  have  no  fur 
ther  use  for  me,  can't  we  take  a  spell  off 
for  further  discussion?  I'm  getting  pretty 
tired  Bill." 

"I  never  did  see  such  a  kicker,"  said 
Bill.  "When  I've  been  so  considerate,  too. 
Why,  you  see,  Leff,  that  the  chrysalis  of 
attraction  in  which  you  move  is  so  cun 
ningly  tempered  as  to  swing  you  in  a  per 
fect  circle  about  twenty  feet  in  diameter. 
So,  you  see,  you  are  in  no  sense  exposed, 


156  Discords  of  Devolution 

as  it  were,  publicly.  You  are  so  adjusted 
as  not  to  be  dragged  through  the  roof,  over 
the  damp  grass,  through  the  sewer  pipes 
nor  yet  across  the  clothes-line  in  the  back 
yard.  In  thus  making  you  a  strictly  Pri 
vate  Exhibit  I've  paid  the  deference  due 
to  your  profession  which  you  yourself  have 
so  disgraced.  I  wonder,  now,  Leff,  if  you 
haven't  guessed  what  I've  been  up  to  all 
this  time?" 

Alonzo  shook  his  head  dejectedly. 

"NoT'— interrogatively.  "Well,  then," 
said  Bill — "I've  just  reached  the  delicate 
point  of  practically  solving  the  problem  of 
astral  substance;  or,  of  reducing  astral 
substance  to  visible,  tangible,  physical  sub 
stance.  And  the  proof  which  is  necessary 
depends  now  only  upon  the  nicety  of  mod 
ern  mechanical  construction.  In  short,  I 
believe  that  I  am  about  to  demonstrate 
that  in  electro-dynamics  lurks  the  secret  of 
the  'Soul.'  " 

"But,  Bill,  I  say —Bill,  old  fellow.  Sure 
ly  you  are  not  going  to  experiment  on  ME  ? 


A  Private  Exhibit  157 

Surely  you  are  going  to  release  me  from 
this  uncomfortable  situation?" 

"Why,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Bill  Vander- 
hook  good  humoredly,  "would  you  balk 
such  an  experiment  on  the  very  threshold 
of  success?  Permit  me  to  assure  you  that 
the  performance  is  only  half  over  and  the 
best  of  the  features  are  yet  to  come. ' ' 


CHAPTER   XI. 

UP  AGAINST  IT. 

"But,  Bill,  Bill,  old  chum,"— and  the 
Mystic  shook  like  a  mold  of  jelly.  "I  must 
away.  My  body,  don't  you  know?  My 
body  that  I  am  going  to  need  very  shortly 
—is  in  danger.  Even  at  this  great  distance 
I  sense  the  approach  of  those  wild  beasts. 
Pray  let  me  return  for  a  brief  time  to  my 
studies  of  the  abstract.  I'm  already  away 
behind  in  Yog.  Release  me  old  boy,  re 
lease  me,  I  must  hence!" 

"I  say,  Leff,  if  I'd  let  up  on  you  would 
you  swear  by  the  One-Horned-Hair-of-the- 
Sacred-Rabbit  never  to  show  yourself 
again  in  Kankakee?" 

"But,  the  law — the  law" — groaned  the 
erring  lover,  and  he  gazed  upon  his  Lady- 
Bird  in  an  unutterable  fashion.  "How — 


Up  Against  It  159 

are — we — to — get — around — Chemistry  ?  I 
-  we — are  not  to  blame— 

"Enough,"  snorted  Bill  Vanderhook. 
"No  more  fooling,"  and  it  was  now  the 
baseball  captain  to  the  front. 

"But  my  body,"  pleaded  Lonnie.  "It 
will  be  eaten.  Do  you  hear  me?  It  will  be 
eaten,  chewed  up,  and  destroyed." 

"Well,"  said  Bill  impatiently,  "what  if 
it  is?  What  then?" 

"What  then!"  cried  the  Seer  excitedly. 
"Why,  don't  you  see  that  I'll  be  regularly 
dead  I  Just  dead,  and  my  body  no  good  to 
me?  "Why,  don't  you  know  that  I'll  be 
nothing  then  but  a  mere  angel?  Don't  you 
know  that  I'll  be  altogether  confined  to 
another  world?  I'll  be  a  Mystic  no  longer? 
Nor  be  able  thus  to  materialize,  and  to 
travel  at  will — to — " 

"Aha!  That  hadn't  occurred  to  mer" 
chuckled  Bill.  "I  see.  I  see.  And  in  that 
case  you  can't  crawl  back  into  your  ter 
restrial  jacket  and  come  back  to  marry 
Mrs.  V.  when  she  succeeds  in  getting  that 
divorce?  Aha!  good!  I  see,  and  wouldn't 


160  Discords  of  Devolution 

that  be  one  on  you?  But" — and  the  in 
jured  husband  once  more  became  the  scien 
tist.  "I  say,  Leff, — suppose  you  telep  to 
some  old  Yogy  to  go  and  get  that  body  of 
yours  and  ship  it  to  me.  I  give  you  my 
word  that  you'll  not  need  it  again;  and  I'd 
like  it  more'n  anything  for  chemical  anal 
ysis.  Have  it  sent  C.  0.  D.  of  course." 

" Monster!"  again  sobbed  Imogene. 

The  Mystic  was  speechless  with  horror. 

"How  selfish  you  people  are.  Can't  you 
see  of  what  enormous  scientific  value  that 
cadaver  would  be?  You'd  even  block  this 
experiment  right  now  when  it's  on  the 
verge  of  success.  You  have  no  sort  of 
gratitude  nor  interest  in  the  welfare  of 
posterity.  I  arranged  this  whole  exhibit 
quietly.  And  even  yet  I  am  willing  to  con 
ceal  your  depravity,  but  the  advancement 
of  science  ought  to  mean  something  to  you, 
and  you  should  be  glad  to  make  a  few  small 
sacrifices  yourself.  Think  of  the  time  and 
money  I've  squandered  in  experimenting 
while  you  were  sitting  on  my  Bagdad  en 
tertaining  yourself  with  my  wife.  In  order 


Up  Against  It  161 

that  this  demonstration  might  do  credit  to 
us  all  I  went  down  east,  down  to  Jersey  to 
consult  Edison  personally,  and  at  his  sug 
gestion  I  bought  this  plant,  which  was  con 
structed  under  his  orders. 

"And  I  tell  you,"  continued  Bill,  "that 
there's  a  wizard  what  is  a  wizard.  He  can 
give  you  cards  and  spades  any  time  in  the 
moon.  Just  let  me  call  your  attention  to 
the  machine  itself.  In  other  words,  get 
onto  it." 

"And  that  I  seem  unwittingly  to  have 
done,"  said  Mr.  Leffingwell  mournfully. 

"And  it's  a  daisy  dynamo,  I  tell  you.  It 
produces,  for  its  size,  electricity  at  a  higher 
pressure  than  any  other  machine  in  the 
world.  Why,  the  output  of  this  little  power 
is  sufficient  to  keep  five  thousand  incandes 
cent  lamps  burning  at  the  same  time.  It 
can  knock  an  ordinary  man  silly  in  the 
fraction  of  a  second.  And  with  its  two 
thousand  volts  I  can  lay  you  out  in  a  min 
ute" — said  Bill,  nodding  enthusiastically 
toward  the  cylinder.  "Understand,  this 
is  an  improved  machine  which  in  detail,  of 


162  Discords  of  Devolution 

course,  you  couldn't  understand.  The  in 
crease  of  power  here  isn't  through  the  size 
of  the  dynamo,  but  by  a  new  armature  and 
the  field-magnets.  This  produces  in  the 
current  what  we  call  the  Three-Phase- Al 
ternating-System  which  you  will  observe  to 
be  a  corker.  Edison  gave  me  points  and 
I  tell  you  I  've  got  a  machine  to  fit — to  fit— 
the  crime.  See?" 

Mr.  Leffingwell  "saw,"  but  he  made  no 
attempt  to  "pass."  He  only  bowed  his 
head  sorrowfully. 

"But  look  here,  good  people;  we're 
wasting  a  lot  of  time,"  said  Bill  presently. 
' '  And  I  think  it  is  about  time  this  mill  was 
pulled  off"— and  he  now  bent  eagerly  for 
ward,  his  hand  upon  the  lever  and  his  eyes 
riveted  upon  the  "Exhibit,"  reminding 
Alonzo  of  the  position  he  used  to  assume 
when  set  to  bat  a  ball. 

"Notice,  please,"  said  Bill,  "that  I  am 
able  at  will  to  increase  or  decrease  this  cur 
rent  which  prevents  your  escape  from  the 
sphere  of  attraction.  You  will  see  that  I 
am  thus  able  nicely  to  regulate  your  speed 


Up  Against  It  163 

from  the  slow  and  comfortable  to  the  dizzy 
and  dangerous." 

"Dangerous?  Dangerous,  did  you  say? 
I  hardly  understand  you"— faltered  the 
Mystic,  paling  as  he  spoke. 

"Let  me  illustrate," — and  the  hand  of 
the  avenger  sought  the  lever. 

The  little  monster  whirled  fiercely,  in 
creasing  with  each  revolution  both  the 
speed  and  the  terror  of  its  victim.  Faster 
and  faster  whirled  the  cylinder.  Faster 
and  faster  flew  the  lately  fascinating  Seer. 

' '  Hold, — hold, — I — I — I — must  ask — one 
—question,"  shrilled  brokenly  upon  the 
sparkling  air. 

"Certainly,"  responded  Bill,  lessening 
the  current  as  he  spoke. 

"I  say,  Bill — upon  what  prin — principle 
do — you — op — operate?"  gasped  the  sud 
denly  released  gentleman.  "I  must  know 
if  it  agrees  with — with  our  sch — ool." 

The  man  at  the  machine  bowed  gracious 
ly,  and  jauntily  saluted  his  old  chum.  Bill 
was  flattered.  To  be  thus  interrogated  by 
one  whose  profession  was  wisdom,  was  a 


164  Discords  of  Devolution 

distinct  compliment.    He  straightened  him 
self  and  lifted  his  chin. 

"Helium," — he  said,  in  a  loud,  cheerful 
voice, — "that  of  which  you  are  composed, 
I  discover  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  de- 
phlogisticated  condition  of  matter.  Now 
this  highly  attenuated  substance  is  (as  you 
may,  but  probably  do  not  know)  highly 
susceptible  to  electrical  forces.  I  further 
discover  that  by  virtue  of  electro-dynamics 
we  are  able  to  convert  this  highly  refined 
substance  into  hydrogen,  a  highly  volatile 
metal.  This,  under  increased  pressure,  is 
finally  raised  to  the  point  of  ignition.  D'ye 
hear,  my  gay  Gnani?  For  here's  where  I 
get  in  my  fine  work.  Let  me  repeat, — this 
highly  volatile  hydrogen  is,  or  will  pres 
ently  be — raised  to  the  point  of  ignition- 
Phlogiston  is  Eestored  and — pish — you 
go." 

"Horrible!  horrible!  but  true,  alas,  too 
true," — and  the  Mystic  and  his  Mate 
bowed  their  heads  in  unison. 

"And,  hear  me  still  further,  Mr.  Psycho- 
Bunko-Hiero-Phanto, ' '  continued  Mr.  Van- 


Up  Against  It  1C5 

deiiiook  remorselessly.  "I'd  have  you 
know  that  the  curriculum  of  your  musty  old 
schools  in  Hindustan  never  counted  on  a 
tussle  with  physical  science.  They  go  no 
further  than  the  application  of  certain 
metaphysical  forces  to  nonresistant  phys 
ical  substance,  or  nonconipos  gray  matter 
of  certain  fool  people  I  know.  They  never 
equip  their  alleged  pupils  to  meet  nor  to 
resist  an  active  and  rational  campaign  on 
the  lower  planes.  With  all  your  tricks  you 
Oriental  fakirs  aren't  in  it  with  an  Edison 
plant.  You're  not  in  it  with  the  twentieth 
century  scientist,  when  he  has  a  real  ax  to 
grind," — and  by  way  of  illustration  Bill 
increased  the  current  and  ground  his  teeth. 

Moved  by  his  enemy's  science,  rather 
than  by  his  satire,  Alonzo  Leffingwell 
passed  on  his  way — lamenting. 

But  he  returned  again,  and  hung  sus 
pended  at  his  tormentor's  pleasure. 

The  man  of  science  continued:  "You 
forget,  my  Alonzo  the  brave,  that  physical 
science  hasn't  been  asleep  the  past  five 
years.  No,  my  boy,  modern  science  has  got 


166  Discords  of  Devolution 

a  cinch  on  you — and  the  modern  scientist 
has  wiped  out  your  musty  old  magic.  And 
the  rude  every-day  porter-house-Budweis- 
er  scientist  has  likewise  been  studying  na 
ture's  finer  forces.  Now  we  don't  levitate, 
to  speak  of,  but  we're  making  pretty  good 
time,  just  the  same.  Your  scientific  breth 
ren  out  there  in  Gingalee  will  discover  in 
a  couple  of  centuries  that  we've  got  the 
drop  on  them — that  the  occult  isn't  occult, 
a  little  bit,  and  that  the  Plain  Citizen  of 
this  great,  western  republic  is  after  them. ' ' 

To  this  the  miserable  Mystic  made  no 
reply.  He  saw  that  he  was  discovered  and 
lost  at  one  and  the  same  time.  Nothing  but 
the  scarcity  of  water  in  his  organism  re 
strained  the  now  hopeless  gentleman  from 
tears. 

He  made  one  more  attempt,  one  more 
appeal. 

"Is  there  nothing,  Oh,  William  K.  Van- 
derhook, — is  there  nothing  in  our  past 
friendship, — nothing  of  the  past, — in  mem 
ory  that  will  melt  or  soften  you?" 

"Anything   in   memory  to    soften   me? 


Up  Against  It  167 

Well, — I — should — say — NIT.  Every  rev 
olution  of  the  second-hand  on  the  dial  plate 
of  my  memory  drives  another  spike  into 
the  lid  of  your — figuratively  speaking- 
coffin." 

' '  There  was  a  time  when  I  was  soft.  Oh, 
yes,  I  was  soft!  Five  years  ago  I  was 
softer  than  putty,  softer  than  a  bread-and- 
milk  poultice  or  a  batch  of  dough.  But  my 
friend,  I've  been  baked  since.  Hard  baked. 
It  took  a  lot  of  kneading  and  a  mighty  hot 
oven,  but  I  got  myself  baked,  hard-brown, 
and  I've  got  a  cast-iron  crust  on  me, — and 
don't  you  forget  it." 

"Yes,  I  admit  I  was  soft,  but  that  was 
long  ago,  before  you  made  a  profession  of 
bamboozling  silly  women." 

"Memory — well  I  should  say.  D'ye 
think  I've  forgotten  that  inspired  old  Man 
hattan  Mystic?  Not  much.  I've  been 
studying  that  same  old  muddle  myself. 
Yes,  sir,  and  I've  got  the  volume  right 
over  there  in  my  scientific  library,  in  the 
section  marked  CRANKS,"— and  Bill 


168  Discords  of  Devolution 

Vanderhook  jerked  his  thumb  disdainfully 
in  the  direction  of  the  library. 

"And  hear  me  further,  Lonnie  boy.  It 
was  just  my  reading  of  your  own  High 
Joss,  and  it  was  out  of  his  profound  pro 
fundity  that  I  dug  your  condemnation. 
And  it  is  he,  and  not  Bill  Vanderhook,  who 
has  settled  your  eternal — hash. 

"Now  you  hear  me  a  minute.  I'm  going 
to  do  a  little  quoting  myself.  I  spent  days 
and  nights  wading  through  that  illumi 
nated  slush  to  see  if  I  could  find  any  ex 
cuse  for  you.  But  instead  of  that  I  picked 
out  the  biggest  spike  in  the  lid. 

"But,  Gee,  wasn't  it  a  job?  My  nerve 
nearly  brought  on  paresis.  I  did  have  con 
gestive  chill,  ticdouloureux,  meningitis, 
lock-jaw  and  curvature  of  the  spine.  But  I 
read  it  just  the  same,  and  here's  what  your 
old  misfit  says.  Listen,  and  when  you 
strike  that  eternal  oblivion  take  a  day  off 
and  go  back  through  your  disintegrated, 
dissolved  and  scattered  gray  matter  and 
see  if  you  can  remember  anything  like 
this, — 


Up  Against  It  169 

"  'Mechanism  does  not  escape  this  trope 
and  rhapsody,  being  indeed  their  most 
conspicuous  illustration,  since  its  funda 
mental  principle  is  that  of  leverage,  where 
by  there  is  libration  or  oscillation,  as  of  a 
scale  or  a  pendulum,  or  circular  motion  as 
of  a  wheel.  In  celestial  mechanism  the 
material  fulcrum  disappears,  and  there  is 
the  invisible  centre  of  motion,  of  light  and 
return,  through  tendencies  which  seem  to 
balance  each  other,  giving  the  motion  the 
orbital  form.' 

''And  here's  your  old  Manhattan  Mum 
my  come  home  to  roost." 

"Henrymillsalden,  second  chapter  and 
fifth  verse." 

"Congregation  sing." 

Alonzo  Leffingwell  bowed  his  head.  He 
pressed  his  hand  to  his  solar  plexus  and 
then  faintly  did  he  murmur — "Then  there 
is  nothing  that  will  melt  or  soften  you— 
nothing?" 

Oh,  ring  off.  D'ye  take  me  for  the  ice 
man?  Well,  I'm  not.  I'm  pig-iron,  pipe- 


170  Discords  of  Devolution 

clay  and  steel  filings;  and  what's  worse, 
the  more  I  remember  the  madder  I  get." 

"And  then — and  then — there  is  nothing 
that  I  can  do — or  can  say  !— 

"Once — and — for — all, — NOPE,  my  gay 
Gnani  of  Gingalee,  for  the  last  time,  you're 
up  against  it." 

And  there  was  silence  in  the  cellar  for 
the  space  of  about  eight  minutes. 

And  then, — ' '  It  is  not,  0  William,  simply 
for  myself  I  plead.  I  am  thinking  also 
of  you,  and  of  the  Karmic  consequences 
of  this  Act.  Had  you, — had  you — been  il 
luminated— 

"I'd  a  hoisted  you  out  of  my  house  a 
year  ago, " —interrupted  Bill  fiercely. 
"But  I  wasn't  illuminated.  My  aura 
wasn't  anything  but  fuzz.  Wasn't  lit  up. 
I  was  in  the  gloaming.  But  I'm  not  there 
now.  I'm  out  of  the  woods.  And  I've  got 
a  pink  halo  of  forty-four  horse  power. 
D'ye  hear  me?"  and  the  materialist 
grinned  away  his  scowl.  Waving  his  hand 


Up  Against  It  171 

outward  in  the  glaring  atmosphere,  he  con 
tinued, — "I'm  getting  there.  If  this  ain't 
illumination  I  don't  know  light  when  I  see 
it.  Oh,  yes,  I'm  a  small  incandescent  my 
self.  But  see  here" — and  Bill  suddenly 
closed  the  conversation  and  his  jaws  with 
a  snap. 

"What  are  you  up  to  anyway?  You're 
trying  to  josh  me  out  of  this  experiment. 
I  don't  mean  to  let  you  buzz  the  vitality 
out  of  this  dynamo.  You're  slick  enough 
to  weaken  the  coils  of  any  old  machine  if 
you're  not  watched.  Anyway,  we've  had 
enough  monkeying,  and  I've  got  other  fish 
to  fry.  The  Board  meets  at  eight  and  I'm 
punctual." 

Bill  Vanderhook  now  consulted  his 
watch.  "Holy  Mother  of  Mud!"— he 
shouted.  "It's  seven  o'clock,  and  no  din 
ner,  and  this  is  Saturday  night,  and  the 
barber  shops  crowded.  Now,  see  here" 
to  the  silent,  despairing  culprits, — "I 
don't  want  any  more  back  talk.  I'm  go 
ing  to  wind  up  this  business  instanter.  For 


172  Discords  of  Devolution 

this  whole  mess  has  to  be  out  of  the  way 
in  just  fif — teen — minutes." 

"No — no  more  talk.  You  just  get  ready 
for  your  last  sprint.  This  farce  is  played 
out.  The  last  act  is  over.  The  curtain's 
rung  down.  Alonzo  Leffingwell,  the  wise 
man  of  Kankakee  flats  is  no  more.  Bring 
on  the — flowers — your  'Gates  Ajar'  and 
the  other  pin-wheels.  The  pallbearers  are 
without.  The  baked  meats  are  on  the 
sideboard — mourners  in  line,  and  hark  you 
to  the  funeral  march,— 

"Fare-well  for-ev-er  to  old  Kan-ka-kee, 
Fare-well,  my  Lonnie-Bird,  don't  wait  for  me." 

As  the  hand  of  the  avenger  had  touched 
the  lever  he  had  burst  forth  into  impas 
sioned  song. 

And  there  was  more  truth  than  either 
pcetry  or  music  in  his  improvisation. 

For  the  cruel  energy  of  this  modern  ex 
ecutioner  was  beginning  to  tell  upon  its 
ethereal  victim.  Never  in  his  varied  ca 
reer  had  that  polished  and  elegant  gen 
tleman  been  so  completely  "in  the  whirl." 

There    were    now    subtle    but    certain 


Up  Against  It  173 

changes  and  transformations  taking  place 
in  his  attenuated  substance.  The  gay, 
gallant  and  fascinating  sojourner  from  the 
Orient  was  slowly  but  surely  undergoing 
some  character  of  transmutation. 

"Now,  once  for  all,  and  finally,"  -  re 
sumed  Bill,  bending  forward  to  readjust 
some  part  of  the  machinery, — "Once  again 
and  for  the  last  time  I  say  to  you,  that 
you  must  make  up  your  mind, — no,  rather 
your  everlasting  substance — to  your  fear 
ful  and  final  experiences  as  an  individual, 
as  an  astral  man,  as  a  NEE — go.  You  have 
proclaimed  that  all  is  spirit.  I  contend 

that — ALL IS MATTER,       and       HEEE       SHE 

GOES/' 

But  she  didn't  go. 

As  these  last  fierce  words  of  Bill  Van- 
derhook  cut  the  air  like  whip  strokes,  the 
unhappy  prisoner  trembled  with  fear.  With 
one  mighty  effort  of  will  he  gathered  his 
forces  into  one  last  effort  to  break  his 
bonds. 

But  in  vain.  He  writhed,  struggled, 
twisted  and  swayed  in  the  unequal  contest. 


174  Discords  of  Devolution 

But  he  was  bound,  as  securely  bound  by 
the  invisible  chain  of  electricity,  as  was 
ever  the  manacled  criminal  in  the  strong, 
barred  dungeon.  He  was  rooted  to  the 
rim  of  that  fearful  aura  of  his  mechanical 
captor. 

Lifting  his  eyes  and  his  hands  toward 
the  ceiling,  the  despairing  captive  raised 
all  that  remained  of  his  voice  in  one  last 
wild,  weird  cry  of  supplication:— 

' '  Master,  Master,  why  hast  thou  forsak 
en  me?" 

And  what  had  stayed  the  avenger's 
hand  as  it  reached  again  to  press  the  fatal 
button?  Was  it  that  wild  cry,  or  the  wild 
words  that  stayed  the  bloodless  execu 
tioner  in  that  torture  chamber? 

Or, — was  it  the  sudden  infusion  of  an 
other  element,  of  another  force,  of  another 
individuality  superior  to  the  little  learn 
ing  and  the  little  arts  of  both  the  modern 
mystic  and  the  modern  scientist? 

For,  at  that  instant,  in  a  flash  of  time, 
occurred  a  curious  thing. 

The  echoes  of  the  Mystic's  wail  were 


Up  Against  It  175 

still  resounding  among  the  jars  and  jugs 
when  Mr.  Vanderhook  might  have  been 
seen  to  stagger,  to  relax,  to  waver  as  he 
stood,  to  reach  blindly  for  a  chair,  and 
then,  to  crumple  up  and  drop  gently  upon 
the  floor,  to  close  his  eyes,  to  sleep. 

And  Imogene,  who  sat  upon  the  cask  of 
copper  wire,  whose  interest  had  not  flag 
ged  for  an  instant,  now  changed  expres 
sion  suddenly.  She  yawned,  leaned  back 
ward  to  the  wall  for  support,  dropped  her 
pretty  head  to  one  side,  closed  her  tear 
ful  eyes,  and  she,  too,  slept. 


INTEELUDE. 

And  then  unsensed  by  the  sleepers,  but 
clear  to  the  vision  of  the  miserable  Mystic 
a  sudden,  luminous  cloud  appeared,  grew 
and  gathered  in  intensity.  It  appeared  a 
few  feet  from  the  floor,  close  to  the  dyna 
mo,  within  the  radius  of  its  attraction. 

Steadily  the  brightness  increased  until 
the  electric  lights  were  as  candles  burn 
ing  at  noonday. 

From  the  midst  of  this  increasing  splen 
dor  was  gradually  shaped  a  majestic  fig 
ure,  the  face  and  form  of  an  unearthly  be 
ing,  a  man,  yet  a  man  so  transcendent  in 
presence,  so  lofty  in  pose,  so  dazzling  in 
vestments,  so  celestial  in  expression  as 
to  separate  him — almost  wholly — from  the 
little  beings  who  run  to  and  fro  ut)on  the 
earth,  calling  themselves  men. 

The  wise  man — late  of  India — looked, 
shuddered,  moaned,  closed  his  eyes  and 
bent  his  head. 

The  Radiant  One  paused  an  instant,  and 
then  spoke, — saying:— 

176 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"THE  WAGES  OF  SIN  IS  DEATH." 

(By  a  Member  of  the  Order 

of 
The    Brotherhood    of    India.) 

Perverse  and  degenerate  Soul:  I  have 
heard  your  cry,  and  have  come  once  more 
to  admonish  the  wilful  and  wayward  child 
of  evil. 

I  approach  you  from  a  plane  of  life  so 
far  above  and  beyond  the  physical  that 
these  children  of  the  flesh  neither  see  my 
form  nor  hear  my  voice.  By  the  exercise 
of  a  power  which  has  been  wisely  with 
held  from  you,  I  have  arrested  the  forces 
of  nature  which  have  been  but  clumsily 
employed  to  entrap  you.  For  a  few  fleet 
ing  moments  of  earthly  time  I  have  lulled 
to  harmless  sleep  the  conscious  powers  of 
these  earth-bound  Souls.  My  message  is 
for  you  and  for  you  alone. 

177 


178  Discords  of  Devolution 

Listen:  Before  you  were  permitted  to 
open  the  door  of  knowledge  which  leads 
to  the  exalted  spheres  of  spiritual  illumi 
nation  and  power,  you  were  informed  by 
him  who  held  the  key,  that  no  man  can 
ever  pass  that  sacred  portal  and  hope 
thereafter  to  evade  any  of  the  responsi 
bilities  which  lie  beyond. 

Patiently  and  explicitly  you  were  in 
structed  as  to  the  nature,  the  scope  and 
the  meaning  of  those  responsibilities,  and 
the  penalties  which  nature  imposes  for 
their  conscious  and  intentional  evasion  or 
violation  were  made  plain.  Of  your  own 
free  will  and  accord  you  elected  to  enter 
and  assume  those  responsibilities,  well 
knowing  the  consequences  of  their  viola 
tion. 

When  you  first  entered  our  sacred  Tem 
ple  of  Light,  and  knelt  as  a  voluntary  in 
itiate  at  our  Altar  of  Truth,  you  took  upon 
yourself  a  solemn  and  binding  Obligation. 
Well  you  knew  its  import.  You  have  not 
forgotten  it.  Neither  can  you  now  evade 
the  penalty  of  its  violation. 


"The  Wages  of  Sin  Is  Death"      179 

That  Great  One,  in  the  light  of  whose 
deific  presence  all  other  light  is  but  a 
somber  shadow,  has  fixed  the  seal  of  his 
judgment  upon  it.  That  judgment  is  ir 
revocable.  From  it  there  is  no  appeal. 
You  stand  condemned. 

Before  you  were  permitted  thus  to  bind 
yourself  to  the  faithful  discharge  of  a 
sacred  trust  you  were  carefully  and  mi 
nutely  instructed  as  to  all  the  principles, 
forces,  activities  and  processes  of  nature 
on  which  that  obligation  rests. 

That  instruction  was  given  to  you  as  the 
tribute  of  a  higher  knowledge  and  the  dis 
pensation  of  a  higher  Power.  You  knew 
then,  as  you  know  now,  that  the  only  com 
pensation  required  from  you  is  that  which 
must  flow  to  all  mankind  from  your  right 
use  of  the  knowledge  and  power  with  which 
you  were  then  and  there  invested. 

Under  that  instruction  you  learned  to 
know  the  fundamental  Attribute  with 
which  the  Great  Universal  Intelligence  has 
invested  you  as  an  intelligent  Soul.  You 
have  not  forgotten  it. 


180  Discords  of  Devolution 

Under  that  instruction  you  learned  to 
know  the  fundamental  Power  with  which 
you  were  invested  as  one  of  our  special 
messengers  of  Truth.  By  the  development 
of  that  power  you  have  opened  the  door  to 
higher  and  nobler  possibilities  of  life.  You 
have  not  forgotten  that  lesson,  nor  the  re 
sponsibility  it  imposes. 

Under  that  instruction  you  learned  to 
know  the  meaning  and  the  application  of 
the  Great  Law  of  Compensation  to  your 
own  life  and  intelligence.  You  accepted 
the  responsibilities  which  that  knowledge 
inevitably  imposes.  Nor  have  you  for 
gotten. 

Under  that  instruction  you  learned  to 
know  the  primary  and  fundamental  Duty 
which  rests  upon  one  who  voluntarily  en 
ters  the  portal  of  our  venerable  Order,  and 
when  that  duty  is  fully  performed.  These 
conditions  you  have  not  forgotten. 

Under  that  instruction  you  learned  to 
know  the  great  underlying  Purpose  of 
your  individual  being,  as  well  as  the  eth- 


"Tlie  Wages  of  Sin  Is  Death"     181 

ical  effect  of  that  purpose  accomplished. 
Yon  have  not  forgotten  them. 

From  a  yet  higher  Intelligence  and  an 
Authority  more  transcendent  you  learned 
to  know  the  full  measure  and  scope  of  your 
own  Personal  Responsibility  to  yourself 
and  to  your  fellow  men.  None  of  these 
things  have  you  forgotten. 

Thirteen  searching  questions  were  asked 
you  and  your  answers  are  inscribed  in  the 
records  of  our  Order.  You  have  not  for 
gotten  them. 

Each  question  and  answer  form  an  im 
mutable  link  in  the  chain  of  your  individ 
ual  record.  This  golden  chain  of  thirteen 
mighty  links  of  truth  was  accepted  by  you 
as  the  rule  and  guide  of  your  conduct  to 
ward  yourself  and  all  mankind.  Behold  it 
now !  Each  link  is  broken  into  many  pieces, 
and  each  piece  becomes  a  new  link  in  an 
unbroken  chain  of  evidence  against  you. 

You  knew  then  and  you  know  now,  that 
the  right  application  of  knowledge  and  the 
right  use  of  power  lead  upward  to  the 
Pathway  of  Light  and  Life;  and  that  the 


182          Discords  of  Devolution 

perversion  of  knowledge  and  the  abuse  of 
power  inevitably  lead  downward  to  the 
Way  of  Darkness  and  Death. 

Notwithstanding  your  knowledge  of  all 
these  things,  you,  of  your  own  free  will 
and  accord,  have  turned  your  face  from 
the  light  of  truth  and  your  feet  from  the 
pathway  of  eternal  life  and  infinite  joy. 
You  have  scorned  the  counsels  of  the  just, 
ignored  the  judgments  of  the  wise,  defied 
the  immutable  an  inexorable  penalties  of 
broken  laws,  and  have  walked  boldly  down 
the  broad  highway  of  darkness  and  death. 
Your  feet  are  now  hovering  on  the  brink 
of  despair,  and  your  eyes  are  peering  over 
deep  down  into  the  blackness  of  everlast 
ing  darkness.  And  what  then? 

Ah,  yes,  what  then?  Then  it  is  you  cry 
out  to  the  Master  whose  loving  admonition 
you  have  ignored  so  often,  and  you  entreat 
him  to  save  you  from  the  doom  you  so  per 
sistently  have  invited. 

You  cry  for  help,  but  what  is  the  motive 
that  prompts  your  cry?  Is  it  humility? 


"The  Wages  of  Sin  Is  Death"     183 

No.  Is  it  love?  No.  Is  it  any  mo 
tive  which  could  possibly  inspire  an 
honest  prayer?  Alas,  no.  It  is.  instead, 
the  lowest  and  meanest  impulse  that 
ever  moves  the  springs  of  human  ac 
tion — the  impulse  of  Fear.  And  fear  of 
what?  Fear  of  Justice.  Fear  of  the  in 
evitable  penalties  which  you  so  deliber 
ately  and  persistently  have  invited;  pen 
alties  which  your  own  conscience  recog 
nizes  and  your  reason  approves.  Fear  of 
the  operation  of  nature's  most  beneficent 
law,  the  Law  of  Compensation. 

Oh,  selfish  lover !  false  friend !  unworthy 
student!  obdurate  sinner!  unconscionable 
outlaw  and  indefensible  miscreant !  Where 
now  is  all  your  boasted  power?  Why  do 
you  cringe  and  writhe  in  an  agony  of 
fear?  Why  are  you  here,  the  helpless  play 
thing  of  forces  under  the  control  of  this 
witless  child  of  earth? 

Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you:  The  Law  of 
Retributive  Justice  is  but  a  single  phase  of 
the  great  Law  of  Compensation.  That 
Law  is  immutable,  irrevocable  and  inexor- 


184  Discords  of  Devolution 

able.  Whosoever  invites  its  judgments 
must  suffer  its  penalties.  Under  its  in 
evitable  and  relentless  decree  you  stand  a 
guilty  and  condemned  Soul. 

You  have  violated  the  most  sacred  law 
of  your  being — the  Law  of  Love.  Neither 
time,  place,  circumstance,  duty  nor  re 
sponsibility  has  deterred  you  from  your 
unholy  purpose  to  wreck  the  happiness 
and  fortunes  of  a  defenseless  home. 

You  have  betrayed  the  trust  of  a  faith 
ful  friend.  You  have  abused  his  generous 
hospitality,  and  violated  the  sanctity  of 
his  household. 

You  have  permitted  your  own  degen 
erate  and  selfish  desires  and  passions  to 
override  every  principle  of  Equity,  Jus 
tice  and  Right. 

To  accomplish  an  ignoble  purpose  you 
have  employed  all  your  little  knowledge 
of  our  noble  science  in  conscious  and  de 
liberate  violation  of  a  most  sacred  and 
binding  obligation;  and  I  am  come  to  be 
hold  you  now,  a  blackened  and  perjured 


"The  Wages  of  Sin  Is  Death"      185 

Soul,  expiating  your  crimes  and  suffering 
a  self-invoked  and  righteous  penalty. 

Nay,  more:  It  is  you  and  such  as  you 
who  have  made  it  possible  for  offended  ig 
norance  to  travesty  our  noble  science,  mis 
interpret  our  exalted  philosophy,  bring 
our  ancient  and  honored  Order  into  igno 
miny  and  shame,  and  all  our  beneficent  in 
structions  under  the  blighting  and  humili 
ating  ridicule  of  this  Occidental  world. 

It  is  you  and  such  as  you  who  have 
made  it  necessary  for  us  once  more  to  shut 
the  doors  of  our  sacred  Temple  of  Light 
against  all  who  shall  come  to  us  from  your 
western  shores. 

It  is  you  and  such  as  you  who  have 
furnished  the  inspiration  which  prompts 
the  vulgar  wit  of  your  overfed,  western 
semi-civilization  to  amuse  itself  in  derisive 
ridicule  and  mockery  of  the  splendid  leg 
acy  which  our  Oriental  civilization  is  but 
waiting  to  bequeath  to  your  people. 

It  is  you  and  such  as  you  who  furnish 
the  plots  and  dramatic  settings  for  your 
literary  travesties;  and  because  of  your 


186  Discords  of  Devolution 

trivial  and  degrading  uses  of  magical 
powers,  our  august  Fraternity  becomes 
the  target  of  your  caustic,  western  wits 
and  merciless  satirists. 

It  is  you  and  such  as  you  who  deliber 
ately,  persistently  and  flagrantly  violate 
and  misrepresent  the  most  beneficent  and 
sacred  law  of  life — the  Law  of  Affinity  and 
Love — and  by  your  wicked  perversions 
and  vicious  subversions  fix  upon  our  noble 
Order  a  burden  of  cruel  and  unjust  criti 
cism,  in  the  presence  of  which  we  who  are 
thus  maligned  and  misrepresented  bow  our 
heads  in  humiliation,  in  sorrow  and  in 
shame. 

It  is  you  and  such  as  you  who  know 
ingly  and  intentionally  substitute  sensu 
ality  for  affinity,  lust  for  love,  license  for 
law,  and  by  your  brazen  and  shameless 
disregard  of  noble  principles  and  benign 
teachings,  say  to  the  world,  "Thus  saith 
our  Ancient  Order  of  Light." 

You  cringe  and  writhe  in  double  agony, 
and  well  you  may,  as  you  look  upon  the 


"The  Wages  of  Sin  Is  Death"     187 

picture  in  all  its  hideous  deformity;  but 
your  punishment  is  not  yet  completed. 

Listen  yet  further  to  the  voice  of  one 
who  would  have  spared  you  this  unhappy 
hour.  You  were  informed  by  one  whose 
words  you  can  not  doubt,  that  no  man  can 
apply  his  knowledge  of  our  higher  science 
to  selfish  or  ignoble  purposes  without  him 
self,  sooner  or  later,  falling  a  victim  to 
the  forces  and  processes  he  thus  employs. 

Had  you  been  true  to  yourself,  true  to 
your  friends,  true  to  your  instructors,  true 
to  the  obligation  which  God  or  Nature  fixes 
upon  every  intelligent  Soul,  this  would 
have  been  the  day  of  your  triumph  and 
joy.  Instead  of  this  you  have  made  it  the 
dark  and  gloomy  hour  of  your  humiliation 
and  exile,  and  in  the  records  of  our  Order 
it  marks  the  closing  earthly  scene  of  one 
more  dismal  and  ignominious  failure. 

When  this  sleeping  child  of  the  flesh 
shall  awaken  and  once  more  shall  set  in 
motion  the  forces  which  hold  you  in  their 
relentless  grasp,  what  then?  Ah,  yes, 
what  then?  I  will  tell  you. 


188  Discords  of  Devolution 

The  vital  element  which  still  binds  your 
spiritual  body  to  its  far-away  physical 
counterpart  will  soon  be  dissipated.  Na 
ture's  magnetic  chain  which  heretofore 
has  enabled  you  to  return  to  the  physical 
body  will  be  broken.  Physical  death  will 
have  overtaken  you.  The  element  wiiich 
enables  you  to  manifest  yourself  to  these 
children  of  earth  no  longer  will  be  at  your 
command.  You  will  pass  from  their  vision 
and  their  knowledge  for  time,  and  who 
knows  but  for  eternity. 

In  the  realm  of  spiritual  darkness  you 
will  be  left  to  wander  alone,  and  alone  to 
expiate  your  crimes. 

As  it  has  been  here,  so  will  it  be  there, 
for  you  and  you  alone  to  determine 
whether  you  will  follow  the  path  which 
leads  onward  and  upward  to  infinite  light, 
perfect  happiness  and  eternal  life;  or 
backward  and  downward  along  the  path 
way  of  deepest  darkness  to  disintegration, 
dissolution,  individual  extinction,  and  a 
resolution  back  into  nature's  elements. 
Farewell. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"A  maximis  ad  minima." 
PHLOGISTON  IS  RESTORED. 

And  now,  an  awful  silence  brooded  in 
that  fateful  chamber.  The  Great  Light  had 
vanished.  Darkness  was  there. 

And  then,  as  swiftly  as  came  sleep,  so 
now  the  awakening  of  Bill  Vanderhook 
and  his  wife. 

"Gee,  I  nearly  slipped"— muttered  the 
druggist  "That  infernal  machine  must 
have  made  me  dizzy  for  a  second." 

"And  here  she  goes,"-— repeated  Bill, 
wholly  unconscious  of  his  lapse.  His  hand 
is  again  upon  the  lever.  His  eyes  are 
again  riveted  upon  the  private  exhibit. 

But  the  voice  of  the  gay  Gnani  is  heard 
no  more  by  man.  He  makes  no  more  ap 
peals.  His  freshness  is  departing  forever. 


190  Discords  of  Devolution 

His  etheric  countenance  is  distorted  by  un 
speakable  anguish.  Despair  looks  from 
his  eyes.  His  delicate  hands,  unclasped, 
are  fallen  to  his  sides.  His  head  is  bowed 
upon  his  breast.  The  foolish  wise  man 
now  faces  himself  on  all  sides.  He  sees 
the  past,  the  present,  the  future, — sin,  suf 
fering,  and  impenetrable  silence. 

"And  here  she  goes,"- 

Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r. 

Whizz-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z. 

And  go  she  did, — and  so  did  the  Illumi- 
nat  of  Illinois. 

Without  so  much  as  a  farewell  word  to 
his  Alter  Ego,  the  gaseous  and  now  ghast 
ly  gentleman  was  violently  lifted  from  the 
perpendicular  and  suddenly  bent  in  a  curve 
corresponding  to  the  arc  of  that  electrical 
circle  in  wrhich  he  revolved. 

He  was  shot  like  a  ball  from  a  cannon, 
in  and  out,  up  and  down,  and  round  and 
round  the  Vanderhook  laboratory.  He 
was  projected  with  fearful  speed  along 
the  fatal  pathway  of  that  deadly  attrac 
tion. 


Phlogiston  Is  Restored  191 

Words  can  not  exploit  the  possibilities 
of  electricity  when  centered  upon  a  human 
organism,  however  attenuated.  Up  to  this 
last  moment  the  captive  had  been  stirred 
only  by  his  internal  emotions  of  baffled 
love,  and  of  deadly  fear.  Now,  however, 
to  internal  agony  was  added  outward  de 
struction.  To  the  convulsions  of  the  soul 
were  added  the  contortions  of  the  body, 
and  with  every  revolution  of  the  fatal  cyl 
inder  the  reappearing  envelope  of  the 
doomed  soul  was  seen  to  be  shrinking  and 
shriveling  out  of  all  semblance  to  a  man. 

What  at  breakfast  had  been  the  lithe 
and  debonnair  Gnani  of  Gingalee,  a  trans 
parent  and  elegant  gentleman,  was  now 
but  a  thick,  cloudy  shape,  an  opaque,  form 
less  figure,  an  unhandsome  thing  resemb 
ling  the  body  of  a  bent,  crooked  and  de 
formed  child. 

Bill  Vanderhook  was  wildly  elated. 

He  beamed  upon  the  exhibit  with  sa- 
tanic  glee.  He  laughed  for  joy  over  the 
pallid  and  lifeless  thing  whirling  under  his 
hand.  Tie  emitted  a  low  whistle  of  pro- 


192  Discords  of  Devolution 

found  satisfaction.  He  made  notes  in  his 
book  with  excited  dots  and  dashes.  At 
last  his  triumph  broke  all  bounds.  He 
roared  like  a  whole  grandstand  at  the  last 
touchdown. 

"I  say,  Genesy,  that's  what  you  call  a 
Neego  on  the  home  run.  Get  onto  the  size 
of  him.  Looks  like  'leven  cents,  don't  he! 
Dollars  to  dimes  he  hasn't  enough  mysti 
cism  left  to  illuminate  a  hollow  punkin. 
The  next  Gooroo  from  Gingalee  won't  run 
up  against  an  Edison  plant.  If  he  does, 
he'll  find  he  isn't  the  whole  push.  Just 
look  at  the  shape  of  him.  Now  ain't  you 
stuck  on  that?  And  isn't  he  just  swinging 
round  the  circle  like  a  presidential  candi 
date?  Well,  well,  well,  I  say,  Genesy,  if 
this  don't  beat  the  tom-tom." 

The  transformation  of  the  mystic  was 
sustaining  the  hypothesis  of  the  material 
ist.  The  reduction  of  the  astral  man  was 
a  visible,  tangible  and  scientific  fact. 

And  Imogene,  the  faithless, — what  did 
she?  She  gazed  and  shuddered.  That 
which  she  saw  was  not  her  ideal.  It  was 


Phlogiston  Is  Restored  193 

no  longer  her  lover.  Nor  was  it  a  man. 
It  was  not  even  suitable  bric-a-brac  for  a 
refined  home.  It  was  only  a  Spectacle. 

She  did  not  speak.  There  are  times 
when  even  a  woman  feels  the  advantages 
of  silence.  But  she  gazed  upon  her  late 
admirer  and  then  upon  Bill.  She  had  to 
acknowledge  to  her  inner  consciousness 
that  her  own  husband  cut  much  the  better 
figure  of  the  two. 

Round  and  round  swept  the  cylinder, 
its  fierce  currents  and  their  fated  victim. 

The  features  of  the  mystic  were  no 
longer  recognizable.  The  contortions  and 
distortions  of  body,  limbs  and  features 
were  fearful.  The  external  application  of 
electricity  and  the  internal  throes  of  pas 
sion  and  pain  have  done  their  fatal  work. 

Again  and  again  an  increased  current, 
regulated  by  the  avenger,  hastened  in  ex 
act  ratio  the  destruction  of  the  astral  man. 

The  victim  first  lost  control,  limb  by  limb, 
of  his  entire  organism.  Then  his  voice 
failed.  When  he  would  have  called  to  his 
Lady-bird,  speech  was  silenced — para- 


194          Discords  of  Devolution 

lyzed.  Nothing  of  sound  but  a  gurgling, 
hissing  whisper  issued  from  that  tiny  hole 
—no  longer  a  human  mouth.  Only  the  eyes 
lived.  In  that  small,  corrugated  sphere, 
once  a  perfect  head,  was  left  nothing  now 
that  was  human,  nothing  of  human  intelli 
gence  save  the  eyes — two  gleaming  sparks 
of  light — and  even  these,  receding  and  di 
minishing,  gave  evidence  of  the  vanishing 
soul.  So  long,  however,  as  these  two 
glittering  points  shone  through  the  vapor 
mask  that  had  been  a  face,  they  sought  and 
chilled  the  marrow  of  the  disillusioned 
Imogene. 

So  long  as  these  two  points  of  intelli 
gence  burned  in  that  misshapen  ball  they 
rested  only  upon  her,  and  then — finally 
as  the  sodden  curtains  of  phlogisticated 
matter  fell  before  those  windows  of  the 
soul  and  conscious  love  was  swallowed  up 
in  vapor,  she  for  whom  this  tragedy  was 
enacted  fell  shrieking  across  the  cask  of 
copper  wire. 

Conversation  ceased  in  the  death  cham 
ber.  The  cylinder  continued  to  whirl— 


Phlogiston  Is  Restored  195 

dizzily,  madly,  satanically.  Sheets  of 
crackling  sparks,  blue  and  wicked,  streamed 
out  from  that  insatiable  monster.  The 
full  current  was  on.  Every  horse-power 
\\as  let  loose.  The  silent  but  resistless 
force  of  electricity  was  unchained.  And 
the  victim  of  this  awful  experiment  was 
no  longer  a  man.  It  was  now  but  a  shape 
a  cloud,  a  vapor,  a  shadow. 

There  was  now  but  a  spinning  mass  of 
vapor,  a  shape  no  larger  than  an  infant 
that  shot  in  and  out  of  the  laboratory, 
obedient  to  the  avenger's  hand.  The  rapid 
revolutions  in  that  fearful  orbit  traced  out 
a  misty  band  of  cloud.  That  central  cyl 
inder  became  the  hub  of  a  huge  spokeless 
wheel. 

With  every  pulse  of  time  the  whirr-r-r-r 
and  the  whizz-z-z-z-z  of  that  soulless, 
bloodless  executioner  seemed  to  increase. 
The  invisible  avenger  flew  on  its  tireless 
wings  with  vindictive  glee.  The  air  of 
the  room  was  white-hot.  There  was  an 
ominous  snapping  and  crackling  in  and 
above  and  around. 


196  Discords  of  Devolution 

There  was  now  but  a  tiny,  shapeless 
mass  of  cosmic  matter  flying  in  and 
out  through  floor  and  ceiling.  There  was 
but  the  faint,  shadowy  rim  of  a  phantom 
wheel. 

The  heat  increased. 

The  light  was  blinding.  The  crackling 
of  the  atmosphere  was  maddening. 

Only  a  faint,  misty  line  now  marked 
the  path  of  the  departing  soul. 

During  these  supreme  moments  Bill 
Vanderhook  stood  like  a  statue,  tense, 
rigid,  implacable.  And  his  wife,  the  er 
ring  Imogene,  crumpled  and  unconscious, 
overspread  the  cask  of  wire. 

The  dire  noises  increased.  They  became 
more  terrible  than  the  ghastly  exhibit ;  and 
the  heat — it  was  stifling,  consuming;  and 
the  light — it  was  paralyzing.  What  could 
it  mean?  The  chemist  himself  was  puz 
zled.  He  had  not  anticipated  these  very 
unusual  phenomena.  He  did  not,  however, 
cease  to  press  the  button. 

But  that  strange,  unearthly  noise,  heat 
and  glare  increased.  They  deepened  and 


Phlogiston  Is  Restored  197 

widened  until,  as  Bill  said  afterwards,  it 
seemed  like  a  legion  of  devils  had  come 
to  escort  the  doomed  to  his  final  abode  in 
chaos. 

Now,  everywhere,  above,  below,  and 
roundabout,  there  was  a  twisting,  grind 
ing  roar,  like  that  within  the  cylinder  of  a 
cyclone.  All  in  an  instant — to  the  man 
at  the  lever — his  house,  the  world,  the  uni 
verse,  seemed  to  have  been  swallowed  up. 

An  explosion,  long,  loud  and  terrific, 
shook  the  Vanderhook  habitation,  from  the 
foundation  stones  to  the  mansard  roof. 

And  after  this  was  silence,  thick,  op 
pressive,  damp,  dead  and  awesome. 

And  phlogiston  was  restored. 

AND  BILL  IS  IT. 

A  tiny,  black,  glistening,  motionless 
monster  stood  between  a  man  and  a  wo 
man.  There  were  now  but  two  people  in 
the  laboratory — the  Honorable  William 
K.  Vanderhook  and  his  beautiful  wife. 


198  Discords  of  Devolution 

The  one  was  flushed  with  victory,  the  other 
was  pallid  with  perplexity  and  fear. 

In  another  instant  our  hero  was  eagerly 
bending  over  the  instrument  of  his  re 
venge.  In  one  hand  he  held  a  tiny  spoon, 
in  the  other  a  small  vial  upon  which  was 
a  freshly  printed  label. 

It  was  with  infinite  care  that  he  scraped 
the  spoon  along  the  rim  of  the  now  stilled 
and  silent  cylinder.  It  was  with  unmeas 
ured  caution  and  infinite  pride  that  he 
scraped  up  three  great  drops  of  clear, 
shining  water  and  transferred  them  to  the 
yawning  mouth  of  the  vial. 

This  done,  the  druggist  fitted  a  cork 
nicely  into  the  vial,  while  a  wide  smile  of 
satisfaction  illumined  his  countenance 
from  brow  to  chin  and  from  ear  to  ear. 

When  he  turned  and  looked  upon  his 
wife  the  illumination  increased. 

And  what  of  her?  The  woman  for  whom 
friendship  had  been  sacrificed  and  a  Mys 
tic  cut  off  in  the  height  of  his  uselessness? 
Womanlike,  as  she  watched  Mr.  Leffing- 
well  disappear  into  vapor  she  had  sensed 


Phlogiston  Is  Restored  199 

the  possibilities  of  the  new  dispensation. 
Alonzo  had  certainly  lapsed.  Bill  had  not. 
She  had  lost  an  admirer,  but  her  husband 
was  still  in  evidence.  Alonzo  was  reduced 
to  nothingness.  Bill  was  yet  a  sub 
stantial  fact.  The  Mystic  could  no 
longer  contribute  to  her  entertainment. 
Bill  could  make  things  very  disagreeable. 
Astral  advantages  were  gone.  Material 
things  remained. 

Opinions  to  the  contrary,  women  are 
philosophers — in  accommodating  them 
selves  to  the  inevitable. 

The  lovely  Imogene  had  almost  dried 
her  tears,  even  before  the  explosion  came. 
When  it  was  over  she  shook  herself  into 
adjustment  as  to  her  draperies  and  rib 
bons  and  frills.  She  fluffed  up  her  bangs, 
slicked  her  eyebrows  and  looked  almost  as 
fresh  as  she  generally  felt. 

When  it  was  all  over  the  avenger  turned 
and,  tossing  the  vial  to  the  lady,  said  in  a 
loud,  triumphant  voice, — "Well,  here  we 
are,  Mrs.  Vanderhook;  here's  your  es 
sence  of  mysticism  for  your  mooshoir,  and 


200  Discords  of  Devolution 

here  "• —laughing  uproariously, — "is  a 
soov'nir  spoon  for  your  next  pink  tea. 
And  now,  my  dear  girl"— as  Imogene  be 
gan  to  look  mournful  again — "if  you'll 
give  up  this  strenuous  occultism  and  be 
contented  with  your  old  Billsey  on  the 
earth  plane,  I'll  cry  quits,  and  get  you 
anything  you  want — that  isn't  astral." 

Imogene  wiped  her  eyes.  She  looked  at 
him  inquiringly.  Then  she  looked  at  the 
vial.  Then  she  sidled  up  alongside  her  hus 
band. 

And  now  Bill  smiled — but  it  was  under 
his  breath.  * '  What  is  it,  Petsey  "  —and  his 
arm  closed  around  her.  "How  would  you 
like  one  of  those  dandy  little  watches, 
or—." 

"Oh,  Billsey  boy,  I  do  believe  after  all 
that  it's  you  that's  IT.  I  feel  this  very 
minute  as  if  we'd  just  vibrate  together 
after  this  splendidly.  I  bet  anything,  if 
you'd  just  practice  a  little,  you  could  be 
up  to  me  in  no  time." 

The  Honorable  Mayor  of  Kankakee 
turned  away  to  conceal  his  emotion.  And 


Phlogiston  Is  Restored  201 

when  his  expression  was  out  of  sight  lie 
winked — once — slowly  and — judiciously — 
at  the  now  silent  cylinder. 

Then  he  said  modestly, — "Yes,  Honey, 
I  mean  to  get  even  with  you  if  I  'm  spared. 
And  if  you  want— 

"The  watch!  Oh,  Billsey  dear,  I  should 
think  I  did.  If  you  hadn't  dissolved  Lon- 
nie  he  would  have  gotten  me  one  soon. 
But,  say,  can't  I  have,  too,  one  of  those 
dear — dear — markee  rings?  They're  just 
too,  too,  utterly— 

"  'Course  you  can.  You  can  have  a 
whole  tray  full  if  you  want  'em.  You  see, 
Leff  saved  me  a  lot  of  money;  and  now 
I'll  spend  it  on  you.  You  can  have  rings 
and  pins  and  any  other  truck  necessary  to 
your  happiness." 

"Oh,  Billsey,  you  don't  mean  that  you 
will  take  me  to  Chicago  this  winter  to  the 
grand  opera,  and  the  charity  ball,  and  the 
horse  show,  and  all  the  big  department 
stores, — and — and— 

"Yes,  yes,  old  girl,  I'll  take  you  to  all 
these  and  everything  else  that  you  can't 


202          Discords  of  Devolution 

think  of  now,  and  then  to  the  Stock  Yards ; 
for  it  won't  be  like  going  home  without 
seeing  the  Yards." 

"You're  a  dear,  sweet,  blessed— 

"But  here,  see  here,  Imogene,  all  this 
is  provided — that  there  are  no  more  Dudes 
from  Devachan  to  deal  with.  D'ye  hear 
me?  Is  it  a  go?" 

"Here's  my  mitt," — and  Imogene  laid 
her  delicate  little  hand  in  Bill's  big  paw. 

And  thus,  over  the — no,  not  the  ashes— 
but  the  essence  of  the  late  Alonzo  Leffing- 
wrell,  Gnani  of  Gingalee,  and  Modern  Mys 
tic  of  Low  Degree, — was  enacted  the  full 
and  complete  reconciliation  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Vanderhook.  .  .  . 

"I  say,  Genesy,  girl,  it's  supper  time, 
and  I'm  hungry  as  a  wolf.  And  say,  too, 
I'm  as  dry  as  a  fish." 

"Me,  too" — murmured  Imogene,  and 
clutching  up  the  back  of  her  gown  in  one 
hand  she  laid  the  other  tenderly  and  con 
fidingly  upon  her  husband's  arm. 

And  the  husband  and  wife  turned  from 
the  laboratory  and  paused  in  the  library. 


Phlogiston  Is  Restored  203 

The  untouched  spread  was  still  on  the 
table. 

"What  do  you  say,  my  dear,  to  the  re 
moval  of  this  cobweb  I  What  would  you 
say  to  a  little  'Mumm,'  or  a  'High-ball,' 
before  we  go  to  dinner?" 

"Well,  Billsey,  I'd  just  say  'Let's,'  for 
I  really  do  feel  nervous.  But  there — good 
ness  gracious!  I've  gone  and  left  that  bot 
tle  of  Lonnie  in  the  laboratory.  Oh,  well, 
never  mind;  I  don't  believe  he's  much 
good  as  essence,  anyway.  Patchouli's  good 
enough.  Don't  you  think  so,  Billsey?" 

And  close  to  the  cask  of  copper  wire  had 
rolled  a  tiny  vial,  rolled  and  lost  itself  in 
the  litter  thereabouts,  a  vial  on  which  the 
double  label  read  as  follows: 

"Aqua  Vitae" 

ALONZO  LEFFINGWELL,  D.  P.* 

"Memoria  in  Aeterna." 

*Defunct  Philosopher. 

FINIS. 
"Tacks  Vobiscum." 


POSTLUDE. 

Literature  is  but  a  symbol. 

A  book  is  but  an  array  of  signs  by  which 
ideas  are  conveyed,  facts  transmitted,  or 
truths  revealed. 

The  office  of  literature  is  to  instruct,  in 
spire,  entertain,  or  demoralize  the  reader, 

Varied  as  individuality  itself  are  the 
literary  devices  of  authors. 

Innumerable  are  the  expedients  to  which 
human  intelligence  resorts  in  its  efforts  to 
transmit  knowledge,  to  impart  ideas  and 
ideals,  or  to  illustrate  and  elucidate  truths. 

Born  of  individual  aspirations,  ambi 
tions  and  convictions,  and  formulated  by 
individual  genius,  are  the  poems,  essays, 
dramas,  songs,  sermons,  and  even  the 
satires  of  literature. 

And  none  of  these  has  excuse  for  be- 

204 


Postlude  205 

ing,  except  its  creator  has  something  of 
value  to  express,  reveal  or  illustrate. 

If  the  author's  motive  be  pure,  and  if 
his  cause  be  just  and  his  art  sufficient,  we 
forgive  the  mere  literary  form  or  trick  by 
which  he  commands  attention  and  awakens 
interest. 

If,  for  example,  a  feathery  skit  be  em 
ployed  to  illustrate  a  substantial  fact  or 
lofty  principle  in  nature,  or  some  current 
social  or  philosophic  pretension,  it  should 
not  offend  the  wise.  It  could  in  nowise 
minimize  Truth,  nor  belittle  the  great  pur 
pose  in  the  background. 

It  is  possible,  however,  that  it  may  teach 
a  valuable  lesson  by  indirection.  It  may 
enlarge  the  understanding  and  remove  the 
prejudice  of  a  few  people. 

To  travesty  a  noble  theme  is  easy,  for 
in  this  great  world  of  ours  the  sublime  and 
the  ridiculous  forever  march  side  by  side, 
and  oftentimes  their  relation  is  one  of 
great  intimacy. 

Side  by  side  walk  the  noble  and  the  ig 
noble,  the  wise  and  the  foolish,  the  serious 


206  Discords  of  Devolution 

and  the  mirthful,  the  fine  and  the  unre 
fined,  the  lofty  and  the  trivial,  the  reli 
gious  and  the  sacrilegious,  the  philosophic 
and  the  foolish. 

The  wise  man  and  the  faker  hourly  cross 
each  other's  paths,  and  their  contact  and 
contrast  often  afford  a  laugh  for  the 
merry  and  a  lesson  for  the  thoughtful. 

F.  H. 


jfor  <progres&ibe  people 


The  Great  School,  or  the  School  of  Natural  Science, 
is  the  modern  name  for  that  venerable  School  of  Wisdom 
whose  records  are  the  most  ancient  at  this  time  known 
to  man.  For  many  thousands  of  years  this  School  has 
influenced  the  civilization  and  work  of  every  great  nation 
of  earth,  and  with  unceasing  labors  its  members  have 
toiled  for  the  advancement  of  the  human  race  from 
ignorance  to  knowledge,  from  darkness  to  light. 

In  1883  this  Great  School  established  its  personal 
Work  in  this  country,  and  since  that  time  thousands  oi 
"Progressive  People"  have  become  readers  and  students  ot 
the  Science  and  the  Philosophy  which  have  now  been  pre 
sented  in  three  published  volumes  or  text-books  of  the 
School.  Each  book  is  complete  in  itself.  These  text 
books  are  known  as  the  "Harmonic  Series". 


Harmonic  Series. 


Vol.  I,  Harmonics  of  Evolution.  By  Florence 
Huntley.  This  initial  volume  covers  that  universal  prin 
ciple  in  nature  of  individual  affinity,  and  individual  love. 
which  operates  throughout  the  mineral,  vegetable,  animal 
and  human  kingdoms.  It  is  a  declaration  and  a  scientific 
and  philosophical  exposition  of  the  following  three  propo 
sitions,  viz.,  — 

There  Is  No  Death. 

Life  After  Physical  Death  Is  A  Fact  Scientifically- 
Demonstrable. 

Life  Here  And  Hereafter  Has  A  Common  Develop 
ment  And  A  Common  Purpose. 

This  work  constitutes  a  light  and    guide    to    modern 


men  and  women  engaged  in  the  "Struggle  for  Happiness 
n  a  seemingly  hostile  environment". 

Cloth  bound,   price  $2.00  net. 

Vol.  II,  The  Great  Psychological  Crime.  By  TK. 
A  treatise  covering  the  "Destructive  Principle  of  Nature 
in  Individual  Life".  A  work  for  students  of  psychic  phe 
nomena,  more  especially  for  those  investigating  or  prac 
ticing  hypnotism  or  professing  spiritual  mediumship. 
Cloth  bound,  price  $2.00  net. 

Vol.  Ill,  The  Great  Work.  By  TK.  This  is  a 
presentation,  analysis  and  illustration  of  the  fundamental 
hypothesis  and"  working  formulary  of  the  Great  School  of 
Natural  Science,  which  hypothesis  and  formulary  are 
known  to  the  "Masters  of  the  Law"  and  their  students 
and  friends  as  the  "Constructive  Principle  of  Nature  in  In 
dividual  Life".  The  Great  Work  is  a  compact  presenta 
tion  of  the  exact  science  and  moral  philosophy  of  the  Great 
School.  The  theme  is  treated  with  the  clarity  and  pre 
cision  of  the  lawyer,  and  with  the  attention  to  details 
characteristic  of  the  scientist. 

The  subject-matter  is  covered  in  simple  and  accurate 
English,  and  the  "Spirit  of  the  Work"  is  conveyed  in  the 
familiar  and  intimate  tone  of  the  instructor  addressing 
his  student. 

The  author  of  the  Great  \York  is  the  American  repre 
sentative  of  the  Great  School  in  this  country.  He  is  not, 
nor  has  he  ever  been,  a  spiritual  medium,  hypnotist  or  pro 
fessional  mystic.  His  knowledge  is  scientific,  his  ex 
perience  personal,  his  method  rational. 
Cloth  bound,  price  $2.00  net.  Half  leather,  Library 
Edition,  price  $2.75  net.  Full  limp  morocco,  Oxford 
style,  in  dark  blue,  green,  wine,  or  black,  price  $3.50  net. 


Supplemental  Harmonic 


Offered  as  corroborative  evidence  in  the  lines  of 
supplementary  research  and  not  as  official  expositions 
of  the  Work  of  the  School. 

The  Genius  of  Freemasonry.     By  J.  D.  Buck,  M.  D. 

A   book   which   every   wide-awake    Mason    should     read. 

Equally  as  interesting  to  any  American  citizen  who  be 

lieves  that  politics  and  religion  should  be  forever  separated. 

Cloth    binding,    price   $1.00   net. 

The  Crucifixion,  by  an  Eyewitness.  The  story  of 
the  crucifixion  of  Jesus  as  told  by  an  alleged  eyewitness 
of  that  event.  From  an  old  manuscript  found  in  the  city 
of  Alexandria.  Cloth  bound,  price  SI.  00  net. 

Constructive  Psychology.  By  J.  D.  Buck,  M.  D. 
Undertakes  to  make  exceedingly  plain  those  few  simple 
principles  by  which  the  individual  may  adjust  himself 
by  personal  effort  and  establish  harmonious  relations  to 
God,  to  Nature  and  to  his  fellow  man. 

Bound  in  blue  cloth,  price  $1.00  net. 

The  Unknown  Life  of  Jesus  Christ.  By  Nicholas 
Notovitch.  Compiled  from  a  manuscript  found  by  the 
Russian  Traveler  in  a  monastery  in  Thibet.  It  corrobo 
rates  the  claim  of  the  Great  School  that  Jesus  was  in  India 
during  the  years  unaccounted  for  in  the  New  Testament. 
Bound  in  cloth,  price  $1.00  net. 

Mystic  Masonry.  By  J.  D.  Buck,  M.  D.  This  is 
the  most  popular  work  ever  written  on  the  subject  of 


Masonic  Symbolism.  Outlines  the  Philosophy  of  Masonry 
and  explains  many  of  the  ancient  symbols.  Of  equal 
interest  to  the  non-Masonic  reader. 

Bound  in  cloth,  price  $1.00  net. 

.  The  Reality  of  Matter.  By  TK.  A  most  interest 
ing  and  illuminating  correspondence  on  the  fundamental 
doctrine  of  Christian  Science.  It  makes  clear  the  posi 
tion  and  findings  of  Natural  Science  on  this  important 
subject.  Bound  in  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00  net. 


Complemental 


The  Bible  in  India.  By  Louis  Jacolhot.  This  book 
traces  back  to  India  all  the  Religions,  Philosophies  and 
Sciences  of  the  world  and  shows  that  in  Ancient  India 
we  have  the  source  of  civilization.  A  very  valuable  cor 
roborative  work.  Bound  in  cloth,  price  $2.00  net. 

A  Study  of  Man.     By  J.  D.  Buck,_  M.  D.     A  study 
of  the  physical  constitution  of  man  and  the  philosophy  of 
health.     Nature's  finer  forces  in  human  life  and  action. 
Bound  in  cloth,  price  $1.00  net. 


Harmonic  Jftctton 


The  Dream  Child.  By  Florence  Huntley.  The  new 
Gift  Edition.  An  additional  chapter  and  several  illus 
trations  give  new  interest  to  this  strange  romance  of  two 
worlds.  This  edition  is  beautifully  bound  with  a  portrait 
cover-design.  Bound  in  cloth,  gold  stamp,  price  $1.00  net. 


The  Gay  Gnani  of  Gingalee.  By  Florence  Huntley. 
Middle  West  occultism  in  romantic  fiction.  An  extrava 
ganza.  "A  laugh  for  the  merry,  a  lesson  for  the  thought 
ful".  Bound  in  cloth,  gold  stamp,  illustrated,  price 
$1.00  net. 


Harmonic  SSoofelet 


Who  Answers  Prayer?  Florence  Huntley,  Editor. 
A  Brochure  on  Prayer.  A  compilation,  covering  the 
teachings  of  the  Great  School  on  the  questions:  What 
is  prayer?  For  what  should  we  pray?  To  whom  should  we 
pray?  Who  answers  prayer?  Bound  in  cloth,  blue  and 
gold,  price  50  cents  net. 

The  Lost   Word    Found.     By  J.    D.    Buck,    M.    D. 
A  new  reading  of  the  Ancient   Mystery.     A  definite   and 
comprehensive  Masonic  interpretation.     A  discovery. 
Bound  in  purple  and  gold,  illustrated,  price  50  cents  net. 


Any  of  these  books  will  be  shipped  to  your  address, 
charges  prepaid,  upon  receipt  of  price.  Remit  in  any  con 
venient  way;  bank  draft,  postofnce  or  express  money 
order  preferred. 

Send  all  orders  direct  to  the  publishers, 

Indo-American  Book  Company 

218-222  North  Kedzie  Avenue 
CHICAGO 


&ealttp  of  jfWatter 


During  1894-5  there  appeared  in  "The  Arena"  mag 
azine  of  Boston,  a  series  of  articles,  over  the  jiame  of 
"Heinrich  Hensoldt,  Ph.D." 

The  reply  by  the  TK  to  these  articles,  was  provok 
ed  by  Mr.  Hensoldt  relating  the  marvelous  performances 
of  one  Koomra  Sami  "Adept  of  India"  whom  he  claim 
ed  to  have  visited  in  that  country,  and  while  making  a 
very  good  story,  was  at  the  same  time  a  very  inaccurate 
explanation  of  the  "Adept's"  exhibition  of  occultism. 

The  TK's  personal  and  definite  knowledge  of    occult 

phenomena  brought  to  bear  upon  Koomra    Sami's    "illu 

sions"  and  upon  the  interpretations   presented    by    the 

"savant"  furnishes  an  intelligent  and  rational  exposition 

of  "  The  Reality  of  Matter". 

On  the  subject  of  "Matter";  the  indoctrinated  Christian 
Scientist  no  less  than  his  adversary  will  obtain  from  these 
iette»6  another  viewpoint  and  added  illumination  upon 
that  essential  premise  of  Christian  Science  logic,  viz.,  "A 
is  not  A". 

"  The  Reality  of  Matter"  also  presents  a  very  broad 
glimpse  of  the  TK's  every-day  sunny  temperament,  his 
abiding  sense  of  humor  and  his  ease  as  a  story-teller. 

I  am  persuaded  that  his  "Cartesian  Bear"  Philos 
ophy  and  Illustrations  will  be  remembered  even  though 
"The  Reality  of  Matter"  be  "expurgated"  or  forgotten. 

—  Florence  Huntley. 

Bound  in  cloth,  illustrated,  price  $1.00  net. 

Indo-American  Book  Company 

218-222  North  Kedzie  Avenue 
CHICAGO 


of 
life  anb  Action 

To  meet  a  general  demand  the  numbers  of  Life  and 
Action  for  volumes  I,  II  and  III  already  issued,  have 
been  reprinted  on  heavy  book  paper  and  made  into  three 
handsome  volumes. 

These  splendid,  interesting  and  scientific  Volumes 
are  filled  with  demonstrable  Spiritual  Truths. 

To  the  Agnostic,  Materialist  and  the  Church  member 
these  books  are  equally  valuable,  for  they  set  forth  in  un 
mistakable  yet  simple  language  the  facts  and  forces  of 
Nature,  as  no  other  books  have  done  in  Ancient  or 
modern  times. 

The  1000  pages  of  these  three  volumes  are  crowded 
with  valuable  material.  The  Question  Box,  which  is  a 
prominent  feature,  is  very  interesting  and  instructive. 
Every  Student  of  the  Harmonic  Philosophy  should  own 
these  volumes  for  supplemental  study. 

Without  question,  these  bound  volumes  are  the  hand 
somest  of  any  of  our  publications.  Bound  in  imported 
English  Beauty  Cloth,  stamped  in  gold,  price  $1.00  per 
volume  net,  or  three  Bound  Volumes  and  next  twelve 
issues  of  Life  and  Action  for  $3.75. 

When  volume  IV  is  completed  it  will  be  bound  to 
match  the  first  three  volumes. 

Send  all  orders  to  the  publishers, 

Indo-American  Book  Company 

218-222  North  Kedzie  Avenue 
CHICAGO 


ant 


The  fault  of  the  age  is  a  mad  endeavor 

To  leap  to  heights  that  were  made  to  climb; 

By  a  burst  of  strength,  of  a  thought  most  clever, 
We  plan  to  forestall  and  outwit  Time. 

We  scorn  to  wait  for  the  thing  worth  having; 

We  want  high  noon  at  the  day's  dim  dawn; 
We  find  no  pleasure  in  toiling  and  saving, 

As  our  forefathers  did  in  the  old  times  gone.. 

Wre  force  our  roses  before  their  season 
To  bloom  and  blossom  for  us  to  wear; 

And  then  we  wonder  and  ask  the  reason 
Why  perfect  buds  are  so  few  and  rare. 

We  crave  the  gain,  but  despise  the  getting; 

WTe  want  weftlth  —  not  as  a  reward,  but  dower; 
And  the  strength  that  is  wasted  in  useless  fretting 

Would  fell  a  forest  or  build  a  tower. 

To  covet  the  prize,  yet  to  shrink  from  the  winning; 

To  thirst  for  glory,  yet  fear  to  fight; 
Why,  what  can  it  lead  to  at  last  but  sinning, 

To  mental  languor  and  moral  blight? 

Better  the  old  slow  way  of  striving, 

And  counting  small  gains  when  the  year  is  done, 
Than  to  use  our  force  and  our  strength  in  contriving 

And  to  grasp  for  pleasure  we  have  not  won. 

—  ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


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